The Con That Failed
by Dillian and Winja
Summary: AU, set in 1905:  Gentleman-crooks Pegasus and Yami are all set to cheat a Scottish Earl out of his most treasured family heirloom, when Fate, in the form of the Earl's younger son Yuugi, intervenes.  Pairings, Yami x Yuugi, implied Pegasus x Yami
1. The Ritz Hotel, Paris, France

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Paris mornings dawned foggy in November, and there was no point even bothering to open the velvet curtains that shrouded the windows until at least 11:00 or 12:00, much less trying to make use of the balcony, with its lovely view of the Place Vendome, which had been such a selling point when they took the place. Not that there weren't other reasons for staying at the Hotel Ritz, especially right now, when London was all but deserted, and would be until well into the new year, but really, they could at least have knocked a few francs off the charge. Pegasus thought this, this morning, as he'd thought every morning since he and Yami had taken a suite here at the end of October, as he walked past the windows to ring for a maid, and stopped to take a peek outside. And then, as he'd done every morning, he shrugged and went on past and rang for his breakfast and the morning newspapers, because after all, the Ritz was the Ritz, and overall they'd had an exceedingly good year hadn't they? And after all, anything was better than that dreadful Christmas three years ago, when they'd been reduced to taking rooms in Lambeth, and Yami had worked as a clerk at Whiteley's, while he'd had to take a job waiting tables - at Claridge's perhaps, but waiting tables was waiting tables.

No, they were doing quite well for themselves, he mused, back comfortable in bed again now, with his brioche and his cafe au lait convenient on the bedside table, and _The __Pall __Mall __Gazette_ folded so he could read the society pages (and _Le __Figaro_ in his lap for reading afterward). Next to him in the bed, Yami was a warm lump, still sound asleep, his tousled mop of spiky, tricolor hair just visible above the damask coverlet. He'd be awake soon enough, and demanding his cakes and coffee for breakfast as always: The strongest coffee in the place, along with a plateful of cakes sweet enough to make one's teeth hurt; Pegasus had seen him pour honey on cakes when they weren't sweet enough for his taste (it was his Egyptian heritage, perhaps). Let him sleep for now, Pegasus thought, and meanwhile he'd work for both of them, and he finished reading about the Hon. Galahad Threepwood and his plans to visit his brother Clarence, the Ninth Earl of Emsworth over Christmas, and went on to the next item, and from there, to the next; it paid to read the _whole_ society page, _every_day, even if there was nothing in it that could be of conceivable use to one.

It wasn't until he was about three quarters of the way through, that he found anything interesting: Alexander Jardine, Earl of Kirkconnell and Provost of Dumfries in southern Scotland, was apparently awaiting return of his son and heir, Donald, Marquess of Tinwald, so he could present the historic Lochmaben Emerald to him, on the occasion of his twenty-fifth birthday. Donald, the story said, hadn't been home in over seven years, having been posted to Bangalore with the British East India Company. Also looking forward to his return, were his mother, the former Hon. Margaret Carruthers, and his younger brother James, nicknamed Yuugi (which probably meant something in Gaellic).

Pegasus re-read the story. The Kirkconnells were an old family and a wealthy one. They'd been on the right side of the rebellions 100 years ago, and they'd absorbed land from a number of lowland Scots families that hadn't been as ready to support the House of Hanover over their own homegrown royal family, the Stuarts. They'd done quite well for themselves. - What was Alexander, the Tenth Earl? Or the Twelfth maybe? At any rate, a very well-to-do family, with a very nice estate - And good shooting in that part of Scotland, especially late in the year like this. - and apparently, some nice jewels that went the estate as well. He made a mental note to look up the Lochmaben Emerald and see if he could get some details on it. So they were missing a son and heir were they? He needed to find pictures of some family members. Yami could play 25 easily enough, but there was no use bothering, if the missing Donald had been tall and dark-haired. - There was no use bothering if Donald had returned already either. _So_much research to do all of a sudden!

He leaned over and jabbed an elbow into Yami's ribs. "Wake up, lazybones," he said. "I think I've found where we'll be spending Christmas."

* * *

><p>"Asshole," was Yami's response, delivered without even bothering to open his eyes. This was a standard morning ritual with them: Pegasus always woke earlier than he did, and there was always that inevitable moment when the older man though it was time to wake him by jabbing, or poking or pushing him. Ribs or shoulders, that didn't matter. Yami wasn't a light sleeper, and it took work to get him up in the morning. He murmured and mumbled, his face buried, the pristine white of his pillowcase contrasting with the tan skin that showed his Middle-Eastern roots.<p>

He'd been born in Cairo, and he remembered his heritage, even if he had grown up in East London. He was proud of his name, Atemu, although most of the time he used a nickname instead. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father, busy all the time, had left him to be raised by a lot of cousins and family friends, who didn't have any more of an idea how to care for a child than he did, until his death when Yami was eleven. No one would tell him how his father died: He was involved in something he shouldn't have been, or he was helping someone who was involved in something they shouldn't have been. All anyone was definite about, was that he shouldn't ask questions, or above all, get the police involved, because _things __happen __to __boys __who __are __too __nosy_. By then though, Yami was already Yami, growing up too fast, and making a living catch-as-catch can, in between playing card games that got him more often in trouble than not. He couldn't help his uncanny luck in games, but that didn't help, when the adults he'd play against, suspected him of cheating.

Meeting Pegasus had given his life a new direction, a good thing, for the hungry street kid he'd become. Opening his eyes now, blearily, Yami looked at the man (who was sitting up straight in bed, reading the papers just like he did every morning): The ease in which Pegasus read and how he composed himself, showed he came from a good family, even though he always denied it. The two men had a pact together, neither to pry into the past of the other, and for his part, Yami respected it.

When had the sex started between them? Yami couldn't recall, and frankly, he didn't care. He owed a lot to Pegasus - the fact that they were staying at the Ritz for example, ordering the sweetest thing on the menu for breakfast, with the kitchen sending up extra honey without being asked, because they knew his tastes. - and that he was healthy and fairly happy. Without Pegasus, he'd still be begging on the streets probably, instead of leading this life of comfort and luxury.

"Back to work _now_?" Yami whined a little. "But we still have pots of money left."

* * *

><p>"Tsk, Yami," Pegasus took a sip of coffee as he spoke. He moistened his finger to turn the page of the paper, then continued. "That's our bread and butter you're dismissing so cavalierly," he said. "Don't think the fairies are going to fly down and just drop all the necessities of life into our laps. Fresh-roasted coffee, that new bespoke suit we just ordered you - Not to mention the dozen new shirts I ordered, that were positive necessities; I always say, one judges a gentleman by his linen. - Those things aren't free."<p>

"And this is hardly a job at all," he continued. "Yami, this one's going to be fun."

"Fun?" The boy in the bed next to him brightened. - At 21, technically speaking, Yami was not a boy, but he was slightly built, and he could seem innocent when he wanted to. And besides, being almost 15 years younger than Pegasus, well, he still seemed like one. - "Any card games?" he asked.

Pegasus shook his head. "Better," he said. And then when Yami's face fell, "a country house in Scotland," he added, "and right during grouse season."

Yami's expression said he had no idea what that meant.

"You're going to do some incognito work," Pegasus told him. "You're going to be young Donald Jardine, and I'll be... Oh, I'll be the Colonel, who you met in India, and invited home to spend Christmas with you. We'll have a nice stay in the country out of it, and when we leave, we'll take your Christmas present: The Lochmaben Emerald."

"Which you know is worth getting how?" Yami still didn't look enthusiastic. He sat up in bed with his arms folded over his bare chest, his hair tumbling over his forehead, and he looked at Pegasus. "It's probably some little cracked rock full of flaws, and not even green-colored. Or else we'll get there, and there'll be the real Donald Jardine there to meet us. At least with card games, you know where you are, Pegasus. I cleared half the cost of my suit at that game in the back room at Maxim's last night, and you know it. I'll probably get more tonight. I hear the Prince of Wales is going to be there, and he wagers high."

"The problem with you," Pegasus said loftily, "is you have no vision." He gave his bedmate a shove. "Go order yourself some breakfast, he said. "And don't spare the coffee. You need something to wake you up so you can think properly. Imagine, turning down a visit to Scotland, so you can sit around in a lot of smoky rooms all winter and play cards. I don't know why I put up with you sometimes."

In his turn, he folded his arms and looked at Yami, as he got out of bed and crossed the room to ring for service. Yami slept in the nude. He was totally unashamed of his body (Pegasus didn't know if this was his Egyptian heritage, or if it came from growing up in poverty). And it was something to be proud of certainly, small, but well-shaped, and with a nice golden tinge to the skin, even in midwinter. His dark complexion meant he could pass himself off as a Southern European, when the situation called for it, while his blond hair (streaked improbably with dark and reddish strands) meant he could play a Briton just as easily. It was just one of the reasons Pegasus thanked whatever naughty gods controlled his life, for having sent him his way, some five years earlier.

As for Pegasus himself, his mother had been an impoverished gentlewoman, governess in the home of a wealthy cousin, whose son had gotten her in the family way and then refused to do the honorable thing by marrying her. He'd been the baby that resulted, of course; he liked to tell people that being a scoundrel was a tradition in his family. As soon as his mother's condition had started showing, her employer (Pegasus' grandfather) had packed her off to live with an even more distant relative, a Rector, with a congregation in the remotest, coldest part of West Yorkshire.

His mama had educated him at home, as well as she was able. She'd been a governess, after all, and she had the library in the Rectory to use for instruction. He'd grown up mostly alone, in the remote Rectory, and with no proper place in society, him not having a name to call his own and all. When his mother died right before his sixteenth birthday, the Rector had told him he'd always have a place in his home ...that is, provided he was willing to live by the rules of it, rules that included long Sabbaths spent in church studying the Bible, and no recourse to alcoholic refreshment or female companionship at all. - "After all what decent girl would have you?" the Rector pointed out to him whenever Pegasus dared to protest. "You are a bastard, boy, aren't you?"

It should have surprised no one therefore (although Pegasus later heard back that the Rector had been quite shocked) when he left as soon as he turned sixteen. He took along a 17th century communion set (silver chased with gold) along with all his clean linen, and a locket, that was the only thing he had to remember his mother with. A ready tongue and a charming manner, along with the initial funds he'd gotten by pawning the communion set, gave him his first success as a conman. Since then, and for almost 19 years now, he'd lived by his wits. It wasn't a bad life, he thought (although it had been rather a lonely one, before he'd met Yami and decided to mentor him). He had freedom, a reasonably good standard of living; and most of the time, he had access to the very highest levels of society, the levels his relatives had always been so ready to deny him, just for an accident of birth.

* * *

><p>"Donald," Yami snorted, "who names his son Donald? And a country house in <em>Scotland<em>?" He rang for his breakfast, then traipsed back to bed, all but jumping in, rolling himself into the blankets. "I want to stay in Paris for Christmas," he pouted. "You promised we'd stay and see the lights on the Eiffel Tower."

He heaved a deep, put-upon sigh. "Fine, tell me about that emerald, then, Colonel." he said. Before Pegasus could start, a knock on the door announced the arrival of breakfast. Slipping into his robe, Yami went to the door and retrieved his breakfast, then returned to the coziness of the warm bed to eat it.

"I can't believe you can stomach that on an early morning," Pegasus made a face, eyeing the plate of sugary pastries and the pot of honey. "You're going to turn into a block of sugar if you keep eating that way."

"Is that why you like to kiss me? Because I'm sweet?" Yami said and shook his head a little, sending strands of his multi-colored hair flying. He picked up a Rum Baba, and bit into it hungrily. "Yum! Just talk to me while I eat. Who is this Donald Jardine? How are we going to connect him to meeting you in India? And how much is the emerald worth? If I'm going to miss playing cards with the Prince of Wales, it had better be worth my time."

* * *

><p>"Huh, you're sweet like the bait in a trap." Pegasus wrapped an arm around Yami's shoulder, pulling him close for just one moment, destabilizing his breakfast tray and risking sending coffee and hot food into both of their laps. He let him loose at the last possible moment, adding, "and when you don't. And when you smell like fine French cologne, instead of a lot of nasty things no one in their right mind would want to eat for breakfast."<p>

He shook out the _Gazette_, searching, and finding, the pencil marks where he'd circled the story about the Emerald. "Donald Jardine, Marquess of Tinwald, is turning twenty-five on December second," he said. "The story says he works for the East India Company, and he hasn't been home in more than seven years. His parents are the Earl and Countess of Kirkconnell. There's a younger brother James, nicknamed Yuugi. They're all desperate to see their beloved Donald back in the bosom of the family again, and not just because they've got family jewels to bestow on him, I'm sure."

Pegasus was silent for a moment, thinking. "I packed my copy of _Debretts_, didn't I?" he said, mentioning the book listing all of Britain's noble families that was his bible. "I think it's in the big trunk under our winter coats?" -

- "Case in point," Yami commented with his mouth full of breakfast. "Our _winter _coats, that we don't need yet, here in Paris. And you really want to take us to Scotland, which is the coldest part of the entire British Isles."

"_And_I want to get you out of the house and hunting with me once we get there, yes," Pegasus said, "and out of the card parlors you usually hang around in. It's my job as your mentor," he said virtuously. "All that smoke can't possibly be good for a growing boy."

Yami just snorted.

"I'd like to get a look at Kirkconnell before we show up at the house," Pegasus said. "I think a visit to London is in order first: We need to visit the tailor and pick up our order. After that, perhaps an afternoon spent in the House of Lords; we might get lucky and find that the Earl is active there. I'll go by the British Museum and look around. There might be a family history or a portrait or something."

"And if there isn't?" Yami, finished with his breakfast now, gave him a skeptical look.

"There will be." Pegasus seemed untroubled by the possibility. "The British Museum has everything. And if not, well then we'll just go up to Dumfries a couple of days early and get a look at the family that way." He shoved the covers out of the way, dislodging Yami's breakfast tray (empty now, fortunately) again, and went and threw the lid up on their trunk. Shoes, articles of clothing, and the winter coats they'd just been discussing, went flying, as he searched for his copy of _Debrett__'__s __Peerage_.

* * *

><p>He was pouting, he knew it; Yami had been looking forward to playing some card games, the quick money and the excitement, always more attractive to him than the complexities of pulling off a con.<p>

"Who the hell names his kid James only to nickname him Yuugi?" He snorted, his speech pattern a lot rougher than Pegasus's. It only showed through when he was alone with the older man, not when they were in 'character'. He felt free and safe (and careless) in his partner's presence. "It sounds incredibly stupid, he must be stupid. And boring, dreadfully, dreadfully boring. Well I'll impress him," he said. "No worries about that, anyhow."

"You have no trouble impressing anyone." Pegasus' tone was a little sharp, and Yami eyed him, noting a little tightness to his mouth, a shadow of something like jealousy in his gaze. He always talked about what a good thing it was, the way Yami could influence anyone, man or woman. Like Mai Valentine, the rich widow of a Chicago pork tycoon, they'd met in Nice, the the previous summer: He'd had no difficulty in wooing her and capturing her affection with just a few soft words. And he had no difficulties robbing her blind, either. Her jewelry had been more than valuable enough for a nice, delicious time of luxury and relaxing, but it hadn't made Pegasus very happy. Yami got the idea he didn't care very much for it when he had to watch him kissing someone else. Unfair, considering he was the one who'd taught him how to do it, even more unfair, considering he romanced his fair share of people himself, but still, there it was, and he trod lightly around his mentor when he was in this mood.

"We have to prepare well for our next endeavour," Pegasus said.

He started leafing through his book. "You done with breakfast yet? Then get dressed, lazybones. We have a lot of work to do."


	2. Castle Kirkconnell, Galloway, Scotland

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

It was raining when they got to Dumfries. It had been raining ever since the train left Manchester, and it only seemed to get harder, the further north they went. When Pegasus and Yami disembarked from their railway carriage on a little railway platform, the ocean was lashing hard against the railings across the road, as if it wanted to get up there and swallow them, and the rain was coming down just as hard, as if it would gladly feed them to the hungry sea.

"Nature, Yami, red in tooth and claw," Pegasus said lightly. He turned up the collar on his greatcoat, which was already getting quite wet, after just five minutes outside, and pulled his companion in closer under the big umbrella he'd opened for both of them.

Yami shivered a little, brushing fruitlessly at the water as it fell on his sleeve. "What we need," he said, "is a cab," in the hopeful tone of a Londoner, who's used to hansoms being everywhere, and always right when you need them. "We can't walk all the way to - Where is this castle again, Pegasus?"

Castle Kirkconnell, was in the Galloway hills, a few miles outside Dumfries, and Pegasus quite despaired that they would have to walk, especially after Yami asked the proprietress at the inn across the street from the railway station about getting a cab, and she laughed in his face. "Bless you lad," she said. "D'you think you're in Edinburgh? Folks here aren't too proud to walk, and when the gentry come to town, why they arrange for their transportation ahead of time." It was only their good fortune that the greengrocer in town was taking an order up to the castle, that saved them the long journey, and he and Yami weren't too proud to huddle in the back of the grocer's wagon under the same tarpaulin that protected the cabbages; it was better than trudging for hours in the rain.

They reached their destination, MacNab, the greengrocer politely helping them down out of the wagon, and then all the more politely thanking them for the guinea that Yami pressed into his hand as payment. It was too much of course, but the generosity looked good. And besides, he was supposed to be Donald Jardine, who'd been in India for almost a decade, and might be expected to be out of the habit of British currency. The rain had stopped while they were driving and, as they straightened to look at their destination, the setting sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the stone walls of the Jardine home and turning them the color of gold. "The old castle's from the Fourteenth Century," Pegasus told Yami in a low voice, as they walked up the drive. "It's about five miles from here. I believe the family has some plans of renovating it and giving paid tours. This house was built in the Seventeenth Century," he added, last renovated in the 1880's." He smiled. "It should be quite comfortable."

The door opened before either of them could touch the knocker. - Probably MacNab had told the staff of their arrival. - An elderly butler, still hearty, and almost as tall as Pegasus, greeted them with a wide smile. "Master Donald?" he said. "Ye've arrived at last." He stepped back, allowing them entrance, and Pegasus caught sight of a maid, at least two footmen, and a stout cook, also with a smile on her face, all in the hallway watching them. "We've had a telephone put in," the butler continued speaking as he shut the door behind them, "didn't His Lordship write you? Ye should have called from in town, His Lordship will never forgive me that you had to ride in a _grocer's wagon_." - From his tone, you'd have thought it was a hearse, and they'd ridden with rotting corpses, instead of nice, fresh cabbages.

"Master Donald!" Now it was the cook's turn, and she hurried forward, enveloping Yami in a big, tight hug. "It's been so long! And you're all grown up now! Ah me, I remember when you were just a lad and you were in my kitchen all the time begging treats." Letting loose of him, she turned her gaze toward Pegasus. "And who is your friend?" she asked.

"A pleasure, madam." Pegasus gave her a polite bow. "My name is Maximilion Crawford, Colonel of the Mysore Horse. Jardine and I worked together in Bangalore," he said, "and when he decided it was time for a visit to his family, he graciously invited me to accompany him and spend Christmas."

"Then you'll be here through Christmas, Master Donald?" The stout cook positively beamed with pleasure. "Oh, that is good news! Master Yuugi will be so pleased!"

"He's in the upstairs parlor with your parents," she added. "They'll want to see you right away. Unless you care for a rest first?" Turning, she signaled for two of the maids who were crowding all the doorways, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, while staring at Yami and Pegasus for all they were worth. "You, Mary," she snapped, "Lizzie! Get over here and show Master Donald and his guest to their rooms!" She included one of the footmen in her glare, adding, "Charlie, get over here and start taking up their trunks!"

* * *

><p>The house was enormous, and magnificent, and crammed with things that looked like they could tell a whole lot about the family and its history. Following the starched and stuffy-looking butler, upstairs to meet the Jardine family, Yami wanted to look all around him and take in all the details he could. He restrained himself of course though; "Donald Jardine" already knew his own house. He wouldn't be staring all around him like a stranger.<p>

As he knew from Pegasus' research, Donald was the adventurous of Jardine brother. He'd gone to Rugby, and then when he'd finished school, he'd refused the safe, undemanding jobs his father had found for him, and taken a job with the East India Company instead. How his father had felt about watching his older son and heir go off to Bangalore, Pegasus hadn't been able to say of course, but Yami thought it said something about his feelings, that he'd kept his son at home and was sending him to school in Drumfries. …Mind you, it might just say that the boy was a weakling, or an invalid or something.

"Master Donald," – The butler stopped so short in the doorway to the parlor that Yami stumbled over his heels. - "and Maximillion Crawford, Colonel of the Mysore Horse," he announced, and then – Then! – moved aside to let the visitors enter.

"Donald!" The brown-haired lady who rushed up to hug him was his "mother", Yami assumed. She was taller than he, and he had to tip his face upward, to meet all the kisses she was showering on him. Behind her stood the man who was presumably his "father", James, the current Earl. He stood straight, and as tall as his rather limited height would let him, but from the smile that kept breaking out on his face, Yami could tell he was just waiting for his own chance to greet his "son".

* * *

><p>Waiting in the doorway for his own chance to introduce himself, Pegasus eyed the scene with an artist's eye: There was the fond mother, practically weeping in her happiness at seeing her son again. There was the father – Yami fitted in better than he could have hoped, he noted. Both the Earl and his son Yuugi were short, and, an unexpected plus, both of them had spiky, reddish-blond hair, much like Yami's own. – and, behind him, the brother, waiting to greet the prodigal home. Backlit by the flames from the fireplace, it was a scene of coziness and tender emotion that any Royal Academician would have paid for the opportunity to paint, and if Pegasus had any regret at all, it was only that he had no way of profiting from it. No matter though, he and Yami would be profiting soon enough.<p>

For now though, he waited his turn. First "Donald" must be greeted, with hugs aplenty from his mother, and a manly clap on the back (with eyes tearing a little) from the Earl. This took some time, understandably enough, since if his sources were correct, it had been six years since the Jardines had seen their elder son. It was only after these first greetings were over, that they turned to greet the stranger in their midst.

"Colonel …Crawford, was it?" The Earl's smile was cordial. "And you are a friend of Donald's, are you?"

"I have that honor," Pegasus said. "The whole time I've known him," he said, "Donald has been telling me about the wonderful Christmases he used to share with his family, and so when he invited me to come home with him and share one, what could I possibly say but yes?"

"He told you about them, did he?" The lines at the corners of the Earl's eyes crinkled, an expression half pleased and half moved. "I didn't know he remembered. He ought to have come home and enjoyed more of them, in that case," he added, a note of comical reproof in his voice.

"You know how these things go, Your Lordship," Pegasus said blandly. "There's one's responsibilities. It's hard to get away."

"Responsibilities, yes." The Countess had come over to meet him now too, after one last final hug to her "son". "Do you work closely with Donald then, Colonel?" She put her hand on his arm, and looked up at him with large, lustrous brown eyes.

"Ah no, Your Ladyship." – As always happened when he was speaking with an attractive woman, Pegasus' tone became a little more intimate. – "Ours is a social acquaintance only," he said.

The Countess, for her part, met Pegasus' smile with a warm one of her own. "Don't let's stand on formalities," she said. "You must call me Margaret, and call my husband James. And we'll call you…"

"Max," he supplied. "Please call me Max."

"Max." Margaret gave him a brilliant smile. She led him to a sofa opposite the fireplace, and ensconced them both, sitting comfortably side-by-side. Looking up at the butler, still in the doorway, "Gilmour," she said, "please bring tea for our guests. I'm sure they're hungry after their trip."

The Earl for his part, took a seat at the end of the same sofa. He sat upright, a little more stiffly than the demonstrative Margaret, but clearly happy to have both "Donald" and "the Colonel" here. On the other sofa across from them, the younger boy, Yuugi, had settled in comfortably with his "brother".

"You can sit right here," he told him happily. "And you'll tell me all about India, won't you?"

"Please Yuugi, don't hog your brother like that," Margaret gently chastised him. "There will be plenty of talk about India later. You're going to stay for the holidays, right Donald?"

"Until the New Year, yes," Yami said.

"That is good to hear," said the Countess.

* * *

><p>He was nestled up in the warmth of a velvet-upholstered sofa, close to a roaring fire that he felt like he needed, just to get rid of the chill that came of his cold ride up to the castle, but to Yami, it felt like the Jardine family was nestling up close to him. His so-called "brother" Yuugi was the only one actually cuddling close to him, but from the hungry looks on the two older Jardines' faces, it was clear it was only good manners that kept them from doing the same. The Earl looked at him like ...Like Yami was a hot pie in a baker's window, he thought, and the Earl was a hungry boy. And the Countess, over on the far sofa next to Pegasus, kept looking over his way, and then dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. It felt good, knowing how successful the scam was going, but it was kind of disturbing as well. The feelings in him, were they guilt feelings? Was he really feeling bad, that he was going to let them think they had their beloved Donald back and all, and then leave them feeling worse than ever when he left?<p>

It wasn't like this was the first time that he and Pegasus had pulled a scam like this. Yami thought about Mrs. Valentine again. He thought about that Japanese gentleman, Mr. Otogi, and all the lovely Russian gold he'd taken off him before disappearing into the night. Pegasus always said they gave value for money, because look at all the happiness they spread around, compared to what little they took. "Just material possessions, Yami," he always said, "and what are those, compared to matters of the heart?" But hearts could be broken, couldn't they? And Yami couldn't help thinking that it was going to do a lot more harm to the Jardines' hearts when they found out that their so-called "long-lost son Donald" was really a conman, than it had when Mrs. Valentine and Mr. Otogi had lost their light o' love.

These feelings, he hurriedly shoved to the back of his mind. Fortunately for him, Pegasus was doing a fine job of telling stories about India, and no one had noticed his silence yet. He was just telling some story about how the leaves of tea-trees were so strong that boys could run along the tops of them, just as if they were on the ground, that he must have pulled out of his ass or something, because the gods knew, Pegasus had no more experience of India than he did of the moon. And then there was a quiet rattle, as the butler that Yami had met in the hallway, came in and set a huge laden tray on the table.

"Your tea, milady,"

There was tea, - _Good _tea, not the horrid, stewed-tasting stuff he used to get back in London. - served with cream, and sugar, and slices of lemon. There was a huge plateful of sliced fruitcake, and a plateful of hot buttered toast, and a plate of fairy cakes, frosted pink and white, and decorated with coconut and hundreds-and-thousands as well. Yami, still young, and with luncheon on the train seeming just a memory now, he set to right away, and he noticed his "brother" Yuugi did as well. Their hands bumped, as they both went for the plateful of fairy cakes. Maybe it was his imagination, but Yami suspected his "brother" was after the same coconut one, that looked like it had more frosting than any of the others, as he was, and he withdrew his hand, smiling, letting Yuugi go first. Then when he did take that one, Yami couldn't help laughing.

Yuugi laughed as well. His whole face went pink, and his violet eyes sparkled, when he laughed. Despite himself, Yami felt a surge of something like affection. If he had a little brother, he told himself, he'd like one like this... Then he caught himself; it wouldn't be good if he grew fond of the victims of his and Pegasus' con. He couldn't help his grin though, and it stayed on his face, as he took a pink fairy cake, generously covered with hundreds-and-thousands, and bit into it at once, showering tiny colored candies onto his plate.

"Dear Donald," he heard the Countess' voice. "Those always were your favorite."

Then, responding, "has he always had a sweet tooth?" Pegasus asked.

"Oh yes," said the Countess, a warm smile on her face, thinking of fond memories. "He would be the one to go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get himself a handful of cookies... which he always ended up sharing with Yuugi. He thought he was so smart in sneaking around, but the maid found all the crumbs in their beds, of course."

"Mother, please," Yami said, quasi-embarrassed, even though he was still munching on his cake. Margaret laughed with delight, and even the Earl was wearing a big smile, forgetting his stern exterior. After seven years of not seeing his son, one couldn't blame the man for not keeping up with his fairly stern posture; it was time for happiness now, not to hold on to rigid behavior. He was sipping his tea, sitting straight on the sofa, next to his wife. Yuugi was looking up at his brother with awe, face a little pink, as he indulged himself with the coconut cupcake.

"You have to tell me how you met the Colonel," the Earl said. "I am glad you were able to travel together. It is always better to travel in the company of someone trustworthy."

"Ah yes," Yami said, reclining into the lush cushions of the sofa, reveling in the warmth of the open fireplace. "It was in the small village of Rahatnampur: I arrived late and all out of supplies, and the Colonel was as kind enough to invite me into his home for the night. He was posted to Bangalore early the next year, and we became fast friends. - I hope you don't mind me inviting him over for the holidays, Mother, Father?"

"Of course not," the Countess assured him.

"Any friend of yours, son," the Earl added, "is always welcome here. Ah son," he continued, "I would like a word with you while you're here. I am curious what your plans are for after the holidays."

"Not right now, please dear." The Countess gave her husband a look. "We'd both rather you stay home, of course, Donald. It's time you learned your responsibilities here, instead of gallivanting all over the world... seven years has been so long. And the last two years, we didn't get any letters from you at all..."

"I'm sorry mother," Yami looked down. He felt guilty, but why should he, he asked himself. After all, he wasn't the Donald who'd stayed away and been silent for so long. "I tried to send more letters, but I was in such remote villages most of the time, that the mail service wasn't very good. I'm so sorry."

"He's here now." The Earl's voice had a harrumph to it for the first time, and he sounded uncomfortable. "I suppose you got some good hunting in India, Colonel?" he said, changing the subject. "Was it all big game? Elephants and things?"

"Oh, not at all." Pegasus caught the cue and went with it, his improvisation facile as always. "Remember, Your Lordship, the elephant is a work animal in India. The natives raise them, and they're only killed if they go mad or break training. No, it's mostly deer hunting, with the occasional chance to shoot a tiger."

"A tiger? Oh dear!" The Countess threw a quick look Yami's way, as if imagining him between the merciless teeth of one of the big cats, and he tossed his own bit into the conversation just to distract her. "Yes, mother," he said, "you heard right. The Colonel is quite the tiger-hunter, aren't you Max? Tell her about the one you got near Mumbai. - Who was that woman you gave the skin to? Wasn't it that pretty half-caste my supervisor was living with?"

He saw his "mother's" face grow pink, but at least she dropped the subject of his life and her worry for him. Pegasus took the conversation from where he left off. "Oh no," he said. "It was that missionary's wife from Detroit. Don't you remember?" He laughed. "The last I heard of her," he said, "she was married to some native Prince or another. Great beauty like hers is wasted, preaching the Gospel in a lot of out-of-the-way villages"

The Countess's face was going a lot pinker, very fast now, and Yuugi's face was pink as well. "Ladies present," the Earl put in, although he sounded like he was rather enjoying the conversation. "Perhaps we can talk more about that missionary's wife later," he said with a grin, "over brandy after dinner maybe, or while we're out shooting grouse. - Frightfully good hunting heareabouts," he added.

"I want to hear all about India," Yuugi said, "especially about the tigers, and," - He blushed a little more. - "the other bits." He stood, looking down at Yami. "You're sleeping in your old room," he said. "We could go up there now and talk some more." He smiled, as his so-called "brother" nodded agreement, and then turned to the Countess. "And may we take a few of the cakes up with us Mother?" he said. "I promise we won't drop crumbs this time."

"Of course, Yuugi dear," she said with a warm smile, while in the background, the Earl grumbled something about 'spoiling the boy more than he's already been spoiled'. Giving her his own bright smile, Yuugi hurried to take advantage of the permission, gathering cakes together into a large linen napkin with one hand, while he took Yami's hand with his other, practically dragging him out of the room.

"It's good to get some time alone with you," he said, as he took Yami down the hall, and up one flight of stairs to his bedroom.


	3. Donald's Bedroom, Castle Kirkconnell

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

"We kept your room exactly as you left it," Yuugi said, as he opened the door at the top of the stairs. That was obvious, Yami thought, as he walked in. All around him, there was evidence of the young man he was pretending to be. It was there in the Rugby pennants pinned to the wall above the bed, and in the bookshelf full of travel and adventure stories. It was there in the desk under the window, with the pile of schoolbooks and the open inkwell still sitting on it. They'd kept the room a little too much like Donald had left it, he thought. It was more like a museum, than like someplace where someone was going to sleep.

Yuugi crossed the room and plopped himself down on the bed like he belonged there. "I can't wrap my head around your being so brown, Donald," he said. "You look like you're an Indian yourself," he said, laughing.

Indian… Or Egyptian maybe. Yami laughed too. "How funny," he said. "When of course I'm a Scotsman through and through."

Yuugi gazed at him, hero-worship all over his face. "You look like an adventurer," he said. "You look like you've traveled the whole world, and seen things the rest of us here in Galloway have only read about. You'll tell me all about it all, won't you, Donald?"

* * *

><p>Even with all Mother's insistence, that the room be kept cleaned and aired, Donald's bedroom had a musty smell to it, Yuugi thought. It smelled like a memorial, he couldn't help thinking, and it looked like a memorial too, like the withered wreath of flowers on a dead boy's grave. It gave him the shivers a little bit, and he had to look over at his brother, to remind himself that Donald wasn't dead, he was right here, and now he would be using his room again.<p>

He liked being in here. Only five when his brother went away to school, he could barely remember back when the room had been used every day, but he had good memories of the summers while Donald had been at Rugby. He remembered the excitement he'd always felt the night his brother came home, the curiosity he'd felt, just looking at his closed-up school trunk, waiting eagerly for the next morning, when Donald would open it up and show him all the presents he'd brought him: Tattered copies of _Strand Magazine_ with Sherlock Holmes stories in them, and of _The Magnet,_ which featured the adventures of Billy Bunter, and the other boys at Greyfriars School, - Once, Donald, who'd known how his brother loved science fiction, had brought him a copy of H. G. Wells' _First Men In The Moon_, and they'd read it together then and there, cuddled up together under his brown wool coverlet, against the cold of the foggy morning. Once he'd brought him the football he'd used when he led the Fifth Form to victory against the much stronger, much bigger, Sixth Form team; Yuugi still had it, a wilted, saggy relic of its former glory.

Those summers had been too short, he'd always thought, and he'd looked forward to the time when Donald would leave school and come home for always. He'd been naive then, only eleven himself, and the last thing he'd expected, was that his brother would finish Rugby and then take a job right away with the East India Company, and go off to the other side of the world for seven years. He'd only been back once since then, just for one too-short holiday the second year after he'd gone. He'd sent letters, and a few packages (the Ganesh statuette had a proud place in Yuugi's room), but that wasn't the same as him actually being here.

And now, finally, here he was, after all these years. - After everyone had ...well, he didn't want to even think that some people might have _given up hope_, but Yuugi had heard a few people saying that maybe something might have happened to him. Joey Wheeler at school had talked about all the dangers that could befall a man in India, tiger-attacks, and plagues, and cholera. Joey did talk a lot, and he hadn't always been sensitive about what he'd said when Yuugi was about. - Yuugi sat on his brother's bed, eating one of the fairy cakes he'd brought in with him, and watching as Donald went right away to his bookshelf, flipping through the collected travel books and adventure stories for something to read just like he'd always done.

"Let's not talk about India right away," Donald said. He came over to sit next to his brother on the scratchy wool coverlet, and took a fairy cake from the napkin on the desk. "I know it's all new to you, Yuugi, but it's home I want to hear about right now. It's been so long since I got even a letter. I don't know what happened, they must have got lost. It was because I was traveling to all those out-of-the-way places, probably. But now I'm back, and I want to hear all about what's been happening with you, Yuugi. Tell me everything, about school, and your friends, and," - He smiled. - "and the young ladies you've noticed."

Yuugi blushed, and tried to hide his reddish face behind his fairy cake. To no avail, he knew of course, because Donald knew him better than anyone.. but seven years was a long time, and even though it all felt deceptively the same, some things were different. Yuugi couldn't remember if Donald's eyes were so.. typical before. There was a certain harshness to it, a maturity that went beyond 'normal' adulthood, and Yuugi couldn't really identify it. Was it because Donald had spend so much time in another country, so far away from home? Donald's manners were still graceful, elegant, yet there was some kind of unfamiliarity to them, as if he didn't know his way around. Yuugi was all but eager to chalk it up to the seven years of absence, and he was too delighted to be in his brother's presence to really pay attention to something that small. He took another bite of his fairy cake, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"Do you still remember Miss Gardner?" he asked.

* * *

><p>"Téa Gardner?" Yami was glad for Pegasus' profound research. Some people would have contented themselves with what they could read in <em>Debrett's Peerage<em>, but Pegasus had hunted down every shred of detail he could find, about Drumfries, and Jardine family. He'd even found somebody who knew the family somewhere, and charmed them into telling him all about them. Now all that knowledge was coming in handy.

Yuugi blushed. 'Then you do remember her?" he said.

"Of course." Yami's voice was playful. "A little thing with pigtails and a scrape on her knee. I'll bet you're cute together," he said.

"Donald!" Yuugi almost spit out his cupcake. He blushed deeper. "She wants to become a dancer," he said.

"I do not think her parents would agree, do you?" Yami offered Yuugi the napkin and he took it gratefully.

"Oh, they don't approve at all," Yuugi said. "They say it's indecent, going onstage, not to mention all the leg she'd show in her costumes. It's a shame though," he said. "She's awfully good."

Yami nodded. The Gardner family wasn't interesting; they didn't have an interesting heirloom like the Emerald, and Yami didn't care if the girl wanted to become a dancer or not. She meant something to his 'brother', and that was all that mattered.

"Did you.. did you meet anyone in India?" Yuugi asked carefully, and he didn't need to elaborate on the 'anyone'. Yami had thought out this answer beforehand, as he was sure that he was going to receive this question from his "parents" as well.

"No one in particular," he said. "The women there are beautiful, Yuugi, beautiful and graceful. It's like poetry in motion, watching them. And their dresses hold so much color, it's unbelievable. Compared to that, this room looks like a mausoleum."

Yuugi had finished his cake and looked at Yami, rather upset. "You don't regret coming home, do you?"

"Of course not!" Yami put his hand on Yuugi's shoulder. "I came back especially to celebrate Christmas with my younger brother. I missed you, Yuugi."

"I missed you too," Yuugi said, beaming up at him.


	4. The Portrait Gallery, Castle Kirkconnell

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

"A glass of brandy, Colonel?" With the younger Jardines gone, the Countess had left the room too, and it was just Pegasus and the Earl left in the parlor. "Perhaps you'd care to try some of our local whiskey?"

Pegasus smiled. "Whiskey's traditional here in Scotland, isn't it, Your Lordship?" he said. "It would be rude of a visitor to refuse it."

He took the glass the Earl handed to him, a rather well-filled glass, and raised it in polite toast before taking a drink.

"Call me James." The Earl sat again, this time at the end of the sofa where Pegasus was sitting. "A close friend of my son's such as yourself; there's no need standing on ceremony. You know you've made the holiday for my family," he continued. "You and Donald, I mean: My wife and I both sent letters this summer, asking Donald if he'd be able to get here for his birthday. We didn't hear back." -

"He said he sent a letter in August," Pegasus interjected. "But our colonial mail systems aren't always reliable."

"At any rate," James said, "when the 30th came and he wasn't here yet, I'll confess I began to lose hope. Not that I'd say anything to my wife. Margaret is sensitive."

"And of course I didn't talk about it around Yuugi." His mouth wrinkled a little, showing something like displeasure.

_Of course_? "Yuugi seems a good boy to me," Pegasus put in. "A little young for his age perhaps - He's not eighteen yet, isn't that what you said?"

"Eighteen come March," said James. "Donald was a man already at that age, but Margaret shelters Yuugi so."

He stood, a little abruptly, as though the subject was unwelcome - Or more likely, Pegasus thought, as though he'd just realized how much family tittle-tattle he was telling to a relative stranger. - and turned toward the door. "The portrait gallery is rather interesting," he offered. "That is, if you'd care to know more about what you've got into, befriending a member of the Jardine family."

"I am a student of history," Pegasus said, standing. "I would be happy for a look at it."

They took their glasses with them into the portrait gallery, located at the far end of the same floor as the parlor. Unlike the conventional image of such galleries as being hallways, this one was merely a normal room, a little larger than usual. Family portraits were arranged in chronological order, starting to the righthand side of the doorway, and going all the way around, Pegasus noticed, and almost to the lefthand side. The Jardines, he thought with a little amusement, were going to have to start layering paintings on top of each other, if their family lasted much longer.

"Here we are." James paused in front of the oldest of the paintings.

Pegasus' family was old, but not compared to the Jardine family, he thought, a little in awe, at the sight of the portrait the Earl was showing him. It was one of those medieval-looking pictures, that told so little about what the subject actually looked like, but from the costuming, it had been painted in the mid-Fifteenth Century. And there, gleaming against the ruffle at this long-ago Jardine's throat, he noted the Lochmaben Emerald, which was apparently as old as the family.

"A stunning piece," he said admiringly. "This was painted during the Wars of the Roses, wasn't it, Your Lordship?"

"Oh, before," the Earl said, sounding very well pleased at Pegasus' admiration. "This was painted during the reign of James II," he said. "That would be James II of Scotland," he added explanatorily, "not the fool who lost his throne to William of Orange in 1688. And it's not the earliest our family had done," he added. "Clan MacDonald set fire to the castle in 1453, and everything from before then was destroyed."

"You're noticing the Emerald, I see," he added. "Perhaps Donald's mentioned to you it's to be his now he's 25? My great-great-great grandfather took it off Black Douglas at the Battle of Arkinholme in 1455, and the King presented it to the family afterward. Spoils of war, you know," he said. "And besides, there were none of the Lochmabens left by then."

"Scots' history is always so confusing," Pegasus murmured, trying not to be too obvious about how he was staring at the Emerald. "It's too much for us poor Englishmen to keep straight."

The Emerald, he noted, was prominent in each of the successive Jardine portraits. Here, it took pride of place at the waist on a young dandy from Queen Elizabeth's time, and here, a portrait or two later, it secured a ruffle of lace at the throat of a gentleman of of the late Seventeenth Century. They continued around, and there began to be portraits where it fastened plaids onto Jardine shoulders, and finally they came to the portrait of the current Earl, who was in full traditional Scots costume, with the Emerald gleaming on his shoulder.

The Earl stood with Pegasus, admiring the portrait. "My wife wants to have it re-set for ladies to wear," he said, nodding toward the Emerald. He laughed. "She says I only wore it for the portrait, and it might as well get some use. Margaret's got no sense of history," he said. "The Lochmaben Emerald's been worn by the Head of the Jardine family, for four hundred years. I'm not the one who's going break with tradition."

Pegasus looked at the Emerald with new eyes. It wasn't just a jewel, he thought, it was the symbol of four hundred years of family history. For a moment, he deplored the Countess's idea of getting it re-set. Then it occurred to him that he and Yami were going to do worse than that, to this cherished piece of Jardine tradition. He swallowed once, then again, thinking of all that history lost. Then, with an act of will, he turned away. He and Yami had to eat too, didn't they?

"What must she be thinking, James?" he said, his voice purposely light. "Does she have any excuse at all for such a blasphemy?"

"She says it clashes with the family tartan." James's voice was equally light. "Can you imagine?"

Actually, Pegasus could. The Emerald stood out rather jarringly, against the red-and-black colors of the Jardine family. It didn't look too good with the violet-colored eyes that ran in the family either. Yami would positively be doing the Emerald a favor, he told himself, by giving it into the hands of someone who could display it more attractively.

"Pfft, and she puts coordinated colors above family tradition?" Qualms or no qualms, Pegasus' manner was as casually humorous as ever. "How like a woman," he said.

"Indeed." James finished his whiskey, and set the glass on a side table. He turned back toward the wall, looking not at the portraits, but at the empty space to the right of the last one. "I'll have Donald's done while he's here," he said. "You can't think what it feels like, knowing that another portrait will follow mine."

Pegasus felt something very like guilt, crawl in the pit of his stomach, as he thought that the portrait would remain, but Donald – or "Donald" – would soon be gone for good. The family had two sons though, he told himself. It wasn't like he and Yami were taking the only possible heir. "Have you had Yuugi painted?" he asked.

James looked at him, his face just a little wry. "I know you think I'm partial," he said. "Everyone does. Yuugi is a good, kind, generous boy, but there's such a thing as being too good to succeed in this world. I'm glad he's got Donald to watch out for him."

Pegasus swallowed again. The younger Jardine had his brother, for now, or he thought he did. He'd have him through the New Year, and then what would happen? It was tiresome, having so many qualms, about what was, after all, such a simple con; he almost wished he and agreed to spend Christmas in Paris, as Yami had wanted.

"It's getting late," he said finally. "We'd better be getting dressed for dinner. If you'll excuse me, James?" He left the room, leaving the father alone, and still looking up at the place where his "son's" portrait would hang.


	5. The Next Day, At Yuugi's School

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

It had rained earlier in the day, but by the time Yami left the Jardine house to go pick up his supposed "brother" from school, the rain had stopped. A breeze had come up and blown the clouds apart, and he rode down to the village under a mix of bright sunshine, and looming, dark clouds, in a little pony-cart the Countess had offered him use of. "Harry usually drives him to and from school," she said, not bothering to take the time to say who that was, "but I am very sure Yuugi would rather his brother come get him for a change."

The lives of these rich people always amazed Yami a little. "Harry", it turned out, was the groom, but not the only groom; he caught sight of three or four at least, when he went down to the stables that afternoon, to get the cart. And there was someone older in there as well, telling them what to do. Add that to all the servants who crowded everywhere inside the main house: Who needed that many people just to do for them? He also wondered a little at a boy of 18, who needed a cart, because he couldn't manage to walk to school by himself, although that one explained itself, as drove down the hill toward the village, and was reminded again, just how long a drive it was.

The school was located across the street from the village church. Pegasus would probably have exclaimed over it, and how "picturesque" and "historic" it was, but to Yami, it just looked old, and he liked the looks of the brand new, red-brick school building better. It was a nice big school, he thought, and he liked the looks of the grassy playing field beyond (the grass still green, even this late in the year), with nice, sturdy swings and a roundabout too, for the younger children to enjoy during their breaks. It made him wish there'd been something like this for the children in his own neighborhood when he was growing up. He'd have liked to come here, he thought, and learn and play with other children, instead of having been given Egyptian history and bits of the Quran to study when his father or his friends had been about, and just having been left alone to run wild in the streets, the rest of the time.

He arrived just as the church bell sounded four o'clock, and the doors of the school building opened. Children poured out, most of them heading straight for homes in the village (Yami noted that his was the only cart waiting), and after them, smaller groups of teens, walking more slowly, chatting in groups as they left the building. Yami caught sight of Yuugi easily enough, the unruly spikes of his hair only slightly controlled by the cap he put on as he left the building. There were a couple of other boys with his "brother", he saw, and an attractive girl, her sailor hat resting on top of gleaming, red-brown hair, who must have been the Tea he was talking so fondly about, the day before.

At first, they walked toward the cart too busy talking to even look at it, as if this were a daily routine for them. It was only when they were right upon it, and Yuugi put his hand up to step up and take a seat, that he noticed who was meeting him today. "Donald," he cried, with a happy smile, and then, turning to his friends, "look who's driving me home today!"

"This has got to be the brother you were talking about, right Yuug'?" It was a blond boy, about a head taller than Yuugi (not that that took much doing), who spoke. He looked up at Yami in the driver's position and put out his hand. "The name's Joey Wheeler," he said with a grin. "I'm the one that's got some know-how in this group. I tell the others how things are done." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the other boy, who's dark hair was slicked back in an attempt to be stylish. "That's Tristan," he said. "He's the teacher's pet."

"I'm not, you know," Tristan said, although he didn't seem to mind the description much. He came forward and shook Yami's hand cordially, then he turned, ushering the girl closer. "I'm pleased to introduce Miss Gardiner," he said.

"She's the grind," Jou put in, as Miss Gardiner put out her hand. "We let her hang around so we can copy from her lessons."

Yami took Tea's outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips continental-style, instead of shaking it as he'd done with the boys. Instantly, the girl went bright red. "I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Gardiner," he said.

"Oh, please, call me Tea," she responded, hiding a giggle behind her hand.

"I wish we didn't have to go straight home," Yuugi said from his seat next to Yami in the cart. "I'd love for you to be able to get to know my friends some more, Donald."

"I'd like that too," Yami responded. He looked down at his "brother's" three friends. "There's room in the cart," he said. "Is there someplace in the village where we can go get something to eat?"

"There's the pub," Joey began.

"Which we can't take a lady to," Tristan put in at once.

The boys subsided into silence, with Tea silent as well. Maybe there wasn't anyplace else available, Yami was just thinking, and he'd have to just drive everyone home. Then Yuugi spoke:

"There's the ABC that just opened," he said.

The ABC was a company that ran a chain of tea shops. They'd been in London ever since Yami could remember, since way before he'd had the money to even venture inside their doors. Pegasus said they were hopelessly middle-class, and you could tell funds were dipping dangerously low when he'd condescend to even go into one, but Yami had fond memories of standing outside the door and inhaling the sweet baking smells as a boy. He brightened a little now, at hearing there was one here in remote Dumfries. "Very good," he said, trying for the proper upper-class casual tone. "That'll do for a snack, won't it?"

A chorus of eager agreement from Yuugi and his friends told him he'd made the right choice. The others were so pleased by his invitation, that Yami could tell they weren't going to care, or even notice, if he wasn't upper-class and casual-sounding. He followed Yuugi's directions, and drove the little cart over two streets to where the tea shop stood, glittering in its newness, between a greengrocer and an apothecary.

"We're here," Yami halted the little pony-cart in front of the ABC, a fancy building, with large, plate-glass windows, that looked out of place among the rest of the older buildings. Yuugi and friends climbed down quickly enough, and Yami offered a hand to help the young lady, Téa, down as well. They were all looking at him, he noticed, discrete, covert glances when they thought he wasn't looking – A man didn't stay successful in the con game for long unless he got to where he noticed these things. – but Téa was doing it the most. He wondered what it was she was curious about. Was it his olive skin, that the rest of Yuugi's friends had accepted easily enough as being the tan of someone who'd lived in tropical climes for several years? Was it something else, perhaps? Maybe she was the one who found is suspect, that the long-lost Donald would just happen to show up, right when his family had an expensive piece of jewelry to give him.

At any rate, he told himself, Téa was the one he'd need to convince that he was who he said he was, as he followed Yuugi and the other boys into the ABC. They were no sooner inside, than the proprietor of the ABC, Angus Grier, rushed to greet them. He recognized his guests, no doubt about it, and he was delighted, understandably enough, to have the Earl's two sons in his establishment.

"My Lord, young Master Jardine," he said, rubbing his hands, and scuttling them eagerly to the best table in the house. "What do you desire? How can I be of service to you? My store is your store, young sirs."

"Bring some of everything," Joey said, flopping down into a chair right away.

"Yeah," Tristan echoed, "that sounds… Ah," he faltered, as he caught sight of Téa glaring at them, "I should say, we appreciate your generosity, Donald, and will have whatever you care for."

"Oh, some of everything, definitely." Yami was a little vague on what "everything" consisted of, at an ABC, not having gotten to visit nearly as many of them as he would have liked. It would be good though, he was sure of that from the delicious fragrances that filled the place, and, more importantly, it would please his "brother" and his friends.

Yuugi and his friends were an odd group, he couldn't help thinking. There was the blond, bumptious Joey, tieless, and with his shirt half-untucked from his trousers. He did everything enthusiastically; he even sat down, with such vigor that Yami feared for the fragile-looking teashop-chair. Across the table from him, Tristan was like a study in contrasts: His suit was a new, spruce-looking ready-made; his hair was smooth and tidy. Only his manners kept him from being the perfect young gentleman, as he kept forgetting himself and lapsing into boyish silliness. Téa Gardiner seemed rather superior to either of them, cleverer, and more mature. She sat down tidily, and immediately placed her napkin in her lap and folded her hands on the tabletop. And in the corner sitting next to Yami, was Yuugi himself. He seemed younger than his friends, innocent, enthusiastic, and disturbingly, dangerously trusting.

"I love the ABC," he was saying now cheerfully. "Their buns are as good as Cook's, and there's always so many choices." He laughed. "Last time we were here, Joey said he was going to eat one of everything. - Remember what happened, Joey?"

The blond boy laughed as well. "Well, I did eat 'em all," he said, "or I would have done if I hadn't started with those darn rock cakes first. They call 'em rock cakes for a reason, I guess. They sit just like a rock in your stomach."

Tristan grinned, looking up as the proprietor carried a tray over and started setting dishes of cakes and buns on the table. "Look what's here, Joey." He pointed at a dish of raisin-filled biscuits, frosted pink. "It's your favorite," he said. "Rock cakes!"

There was a general laugh at the blond boy's expense, and then they all fell to, serving themselves generously, from the excellent tea and the variety of delicious baked goods that the ABC provided. Yami for his part, piled his plate as high as any of them, delighted by the presence on the table of a pot of honey, which gave an unnecessary, but very pleasurable, added sweetness, to the fruitcake and sultana biscuits.

"So you're the famous Donald." Téa nibbled a scone spread with butter and honey, and looked at Yami from under her sailor hat. "He hasn't stopped talking about you all day," she said. "It drove Headmaster Sutherland to distraction. He ended up threatening him with the strap during Geometry." She laughed. "Yuugi never gets the strap."

"I'm a good boy," Yuugi said, joining her laugh, "unlike some of us."

Joey's grin told everything that needed to be known about who he was talking about. "I'm not bad," he said. "There's just something about me that Headmasters can't resist. Mr. Wallace was worse. I used to never leave school but what I'd have gotten five or ten licks." His hand went to his seat, as though he could still feel those long-ago lashings, and then picked up his slice of fruitcake and took another bite.

Téa for her part, just smiled politely at the byplay. Her gaze was still on Yami. "He said you had ever so many stories to tell about India," she told him, "but no presents or pictures at all. He said he thought maybe the trunk with the presents just hadn't arrived yet, because last time you visited, you brought loads of them. He said your mother wouldn't speak to you for three days, that time, because she saw some of the pictures in the book you brought your father. - The _Kama_...something. I don't remember the title, but he said it your father still hasn't let him look at it."

_Presents_, were something Pegasus had wanted to bring, when they went up to Scotland, but they'd been so tight on time. It hadn't been until the 25th that he'd even seen the article about the Jardines in the paper, and then there'd been the time it had taken for them to get to London and pick up their things from the tailor, and for Pegasus to research the family at the British Museum. And it wasn't like you could buy convincingly Indian-looking items at every shop you went to. They'd found a moth-eaten tiger skin at one curiosity shop in Lambeth, a faded sari with half the sequins fallen off, and some brass trays (but those were too common, Pegasus said; every Tom, Dick and Harry had one, these days), at another place. Finally when it got to be December fifth and they hadn't found anything better, they'd just given up and gone on without them.

"It's worse than that," he lied now, smoothly. "The trunk got lost. The steamship company can't find it at all. I ought to have said something to Yuugi and my parents, but you know how it is. I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I didn't have anything for them."

"I can understand that," Tristan said, nodding.

"Yeah," said Joey, and he glared at Téa, adding, "it's kind of a sensitive subject."

"I'll make it up with the presents I buy for Christmas," Yami began.

And, "I'd rather have you here, than all the presents in the world," Yuugi interrupted him.

"It's not all about presents," Tristan said, "the company of friends and family are the greatest gift of all."

"Says the teacher's pet," Joey interrupted.

And, at the same time, "I totally agree," said Yuugi. "Material things don't hug, don't love, don't care."

"But they also don't talk back, don't tell you how to eat your spinach, and don't comment on everything you do," Joey said. He was by far the rowdiest of them all, and he looked like he could barely afford school. His clothes were a little worn. How did a kid like Joey Wheeler end up as a friend of Yuugi Jardine? It didn't matter. The fact was, they were friends, all of them, and Yami could feel the warmth of their bond. He'd never had many friends growing up; it was hard to make friends with other kids, when you were competing with them for every crust you could get, and it made him a little jealous, seeing the closeness between his "brother" and the others. He tried not to let it show and took the tea pot, turning, to fill Téa's cup.

"Here you are, miss," he said, as always the polite charmer.

"I do like the tea they serve here," the girl murmured. "Would you pass the lemon slices please?" She looked up at Yami with blue eyes that were cool, not outright doubting, but not really friendly either. Taking a lemon, she squeezed the juice into her cup, then dropped the rind in as well. "Did you drink much tea in India?" she said.

Well-prepared by Pegasus, Yami knew how to answer this question. "You don't think a few thousand miles are enough to separate a Briton from his tea," he said. "We expatriates used to have tea just the way it's had here. We'd drink it in the afternoons, and we'd eat cake and muffins." He smiled. "My native cook made muffins that would compare with anything you can get here," he said. "And I'd eat them with butter and some of the local honey."

Téa just smiled and nibbled her scone in silence. "You had to be careful what you drank away from home though," Yami continued. "My job called for a lot of travel in the interior, and there were native tea-wallahs at all the railway stations. Some of what they sold smelled awfully good," he said, "but I never dared buy any. You had no idea where they got the water to make it with, you know."

He was talking too much, he knew, Téa's silence making him uncomfortable. With an effort, he stopped himself long enough to finish his own cup of tea.

"Yuugi's a very good friend of mine." Téa had finished her scone, and she eyed Yami over the rim of her cup.

"Indeed," Yami responded, his mind working overtime as he tried to discern the undertones of the conversation. "He speaks warmly of you," he said.

"I feel warmly about him," Téa said. "We're just friends of course," she said, "what with him being nobility and all, and me just a shopkeeper's daughter. And besides, Yuugi's much too young to think of marrying" she added with a fond smile. "He's just a boy, really," she said.

"That's why I worry about him." As she continued, Téa looked directly into Yami's eyes. "He's sweeter and more innocent than a lot of boys his age," - Here she glanced quickly at Tristan and Joey, who were laughing boisterously about some joke or another. - "I don't know what I'd do if I found out someone was hurting him, or cheating him in some way," she said. Yami wondered if he was imagining the implications he heard in her voice.

In his life as a... conniving gentleman, Yami had faced doubters before. Each one was a new challenge, and he never stopped feeling a little tension, as he'd try to work out the best way of convincing them. Téa was fond of Yuugi - Who wasn't, as kind and as loveable as he was? - and she didn't want anyone messing with him. Was it written on his forehead, that he was out to rob Yuugi and his family? What clues was she picking up on? Yami tried to swallow down his nervousness along with a sip of tea, and then continued the conversation.

"My brother has good taste in friends," he said suavely. "Loyalty is a wonderful virtue, and I'm glad Yuugi can count on you. Though I must say, Miss Gardiner, if I found out someone wanted to hurt my brother, I wouldn't stand for it myself either."

"And yet you went off to India for so many years," Téa gave back. "What prompted you to come home now?"

"I knew my brother was in good hands, with my parents." Yami sounded defensive; he knew he sounded defensive. The explanation he and Pegasus had planned going in, was that he'd come home this year because he wanted to show his home off to the Colonel. He hadn't known anything about Yuugi, he certainly hadn't known he'd come to care for him …like the brother he'd never had.

Finally Téa nodded, her lips a little pursed, as if she (still?) didn't quite believe him. Yami let it go, and took another drink of tea.

"Donald, you're barely eating," Yuugi said, shoving the plate with cake and scones towards him. "You're so fond of almond cake! Don't let Joey eat it all!"

"Almond cake, is it?" Yami smiled, turning his attention away from Téa, and back toward Yuugi and the others. So Donald liked almond cake, did he? Compared with the minefield he'd been negotiating with Téa, keeping up this pretense was going to be a piece of cake. ...Literally. He had to scan the table a little before he found the plateful of golden wedges, covered lavishly with almonds; the ABC had provided such a variety of treats, that it was hard to find anything specific, and he'd just been eating from whatever plates happened to be nearest him, so far. Now when he saw it, he took a wedge, and bit into it with gusto, almonds falling to sprinkle his jacket and the tablecloth below.

Yuugi laughed a pleased-sounding laugh. "You can fill up on muffins," he told Joey. "Almond cake's always been Donald's favorite." Looking toward Yami, "Cook used to make it special for you when you'd come home for the summer, remember?" he said. "She'd always send me out to pick all the ripe berries I could find for it." He grinned. "Remember the time I gave you a garter snake for a coming home present? I found him under the raspberry vines, and I tore my jacket trying to catch him. Mother was so angry."

This almond cake was filled with jam, not ripe berries. A little of it had managed to fall onto his lapel, and Yami was trying to wipe it off, not wanting to hear what Pegasus would say when he saw he'd gotten his new suit dirty so soon. He looked up though, and smiled at Yuugi's story as if it was one of his fondest memories. "I remember that snake," was all he said though. One of the things he'd had to learn as a conman, was to avoid saying too much. Given any encouragement, a mark was likely to tell you everything you needed to know. And enthusiastic as he was, Yuugi was the perfect mark.

Even as he thought that, Yami felt a twinge of guilt at the thought. But he didn't let it get in the way of listening, as his "brother" went on to re-tell the whole story: "We kept him all summer, remember?" he said happily. "We had that box with the lid made of glass, - Where did we get it? Wasn't it the box your architectural blocks came in? - and we were going to poke holes so it could breathe, but there were already some holes in the sides. - Oh I remember," he added. "The box came with the bug-catching kit I got for my birthday that year. Only I hated bugs. You were the one that caught them so we could feed Snakey."

Snakey and the bugs, and other family stories, happily re-told by Yuugi, made up much of the conversation during tea, and during the time afterward, when Yami was driving Joey, Tristan, and Téa to their homes in the village. If Yuugi was the one doing most of the talking, no one seemed to question it, although now and then Yami looked Téa's way, and found the girl watching him. She made him uncomfortable, and he was relieved when he reached the seed shop (Téa's father was a seed-merchant) and dropped her out. The girl descended gracefully from the pony cart. At the shop-door, she looked back, calling, "see you at school tomorrow," to Yuugi, and then she was gone, and Yami was alone with his "brother".

The pony cart started moving, back up the high street and out of the village, toward the Jardine house, set in the hills, a good hour's drive away or more. If it were someone else he was driving with, Yami might have been worried. - An hour of one-in-one conversation had undone more than a few cons, even some of his. It wasn't easy, posing as someone you weren't, uninterrupted, for that long. - If it were that Téa Gardiner, for instance, with her penetrating gaze and her awkward questions, he might almost have rather gotten out of the cart and walked back to Kirkconnell Castle, and let her and Yuugi have the cart to themselves. But this was just Yuugi, and he... Well, he loved his brother, was what. And he was too innocent, or too trusting maybe, to have any doubts at all, about this "Donald" who had shown up on the doorstep all unexpected. It was convenient, for Yami, but it also made him feel a little ashamed of himself. He didn't like to think of how Yuugi's innocence would be destroyed, when he found out how he'd been lied to.

Yami had seen Yuugi watching, as Téa got down out of the cart. He'd seen how his "brother's" face pinked, as the girl's skirts flipped up for a moment, showing a flash of ankle. "She's quite pretty, isn't she?" he commented.

"Téa?" Yami didn't like the feelings that went through him as he saw Yuugi blush, when he said her name. The boy was just a mark, nothing more. Why should it matter who he did or didn't love? Why should Yami feel jealous about it? "She knows how to stand up for herself, that's for sure," Yuugi said, "but she has a good heart, Donald. She's a good friend."

"A special friend?" It was the right conman's question, the natural one for "Donald" to ask in the circumstances. So why did Yami hate asking it? And why did he hate it even more, when he saw how it made Yuugi's blush deepen?

"She's very nice," was all said, "and she's been my friend for ages, since I started school, I think. She's always been there for me."

"For you, or for Master Jardine, son of the Earl of Kirkconnell?" Again, Yami tried to think what Donald would say at this moment. It was hard thinking as a conman though, when what he wanted was just to be free for a while, and able to get to know Yuugi on his own, without always having to pull strings and pretend.

"Donald!" Yuugi sounded more shocked than he'd expected. "How can you say that? Téa's not like that at all!"

He looked angry, and more than that, he looked hurt. Yami hadn't just gone too far, he'd gone way too far. But for some reason it was getting hard for him to think like a conman around Yuugi. His natural impulses kept getting in the way, and then when he reversed them, he overcorrected the other way. Now, thinking just to comfort his "brother", he, put his arm around Yuugi's and pulled him close for a hug.

It started out as a brotherly hug, but Yuugi's hair smelled nice against his face, and his body felt warm in Yami's arms, very warm, and very soft, and it was all Yami could do to pull away again as "Donald" ought to do. "'Forgive me, brother," he murmured, trying to push back the memory of Yuugi's soft, fragrant hair, of his warm body... "I don't know your friends well yet.  
>And I really wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you. There are people in the world, who have bad intentions, Yuugi."<p>

Yuugi smiled warmly, having forgiven Yami's faux-pas already. "It's all right, Donald," he said. "I know you want the best for me. But you can count on Téa, Joey and Tristan to have my best interest in mind. They don't care for nobility, they care for me."

"It's good to have such loyal friends," Yami said. He thought about his own life. He'd never had loyal friends, or any friends ...except for Pegasus, and weren't they really more like partners? It was past time for him to meet with his partner, Yami thought. A con game like theirs wouldn't work, if they didn't discuss each of their progress. The prospect was less appealing than he liked, and he told himself he didn't know why. What was there to be hesitant about, he asked himself. This was just a job, like any other job. He was just going to pay the part of Donald Jardine for another couple of weeks, and give Pegasus time to enjoy the splendid British, country-house Christmas he'd been hoping for. Then they'd "leave for India", with the Lochmaben Emerald tucked away safely in his luggage. They'd sell it, and use the proceeds to pay for a nice long stay someplace warm. Naples, maybe, or the South of France.

"I know," Yuugi's chatter cut into his thoughts. "I'm a very lucky boy," he said. "I have good friends, and a good family." He leaned against his "brother's" shoulder, and Yami found himself inhaling the fragrance of his hair again.

"You deserve it, Yuugi," was all he could manage to say in response, while he tried to block out any guilt he might have been feeling, and focus his mind on his upcoming meeting with Pegasus.


	6. Later, the Same Afternoon

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yami's knock found Pegasus in his room. After a rainy start, the afternoon had turned clear, and he and the Earl had gone out for a walk. Supposedly, they were grouse-hunting, but it was the most transparent of fictions. - "Grouse don't like this wet weather, Max, it makes finding food hard, you know." - Instead, they'd just walked, just admiring the fall foliage, and enjoying the chance to get some fresh air away from the house.

"I'm not letting Donald go back to India, after Christmas," James had told Pegasus.

"He's of age," he'd responded, or some such standard response. "Surely he can make his own decisions?"

But his father had shaken his head. "No," he'd said. "I'm not getting any younger. It's time for my heir to stay put where he belongs, and marry. I'd like to know for sure that the Jardine family will continue, Max."

Sometimes the problem with being a confidence man, Pegasus thought, was that people were so ready to put their confidence in one. The Earl of Kirkconnell was a wealthy man. He could afford to lose a good deal more than the one family emerald, and he'd never feel it when it came time to pay the bills. Bills? Hah, he could probably go the rest of his life and never pay them. Pegasus knew how these noblemen lived, from hearing his mother's stories: Creditors were ready to line up for the honor of serving the Earl of This, or the Duke of That. And as for reminding them, if payment came due and they didn't pay on time? Anathema! He and Yami could probably clean the Jardine family out entirely, and they'd never notice it a whit. But they were going to notice the loss of "Donald".

Just for this short time, he and Yami were allowing them to feel like they still had an eldest son. Donald was probably dead somewhere, killed by tigers, or cholera, or cobras maybe. His bones were rotting on foreign soil, and just for a few weeks, Pegasus and Yami were telling the Jardines that it wasn't so. How would James feel when they left, and it all turned out to be a lie? How would Margaret feel?

It was an uncomfortable thought, one he was trying to block out right now, with a stiff whiskey and soda, and an American detective novel. He hadn't been so successful, thus far though. The adventures of Raffles the gentleman jewel thief came too close to reality, to make for comfortable reading. Pegasus was relieved, when he heard the knock, and he opened the door, hoping his visitor would provide diversion.

"Can I have a moment of your time, Max?" Yami, at the door, brought with him the fresh smell of the out-of-doors. He must have just come in, and he looked the better for the exercise, his cheeks rosy under his golden tan, and his eyes bright. But his expression looked, just slightly, harassed.

"Certainly, Donald," Pegasus was quick and suave to respond. He stepped back, allowing Yami to enter, and then closed the door quickly.

"My apologies," Yami said, crossing the room to sit in one of the comfortable chairs by the window. "It's been a while since we actually spoke."

"Don't worry, Donald," Pegasus said. "Family comes first, I understand that. What are you doing here?" he added, in a much lower voice. "What can you possibly have to say to me, that couldn't have been said in public?"

Yami sat flopped in his chair by the window. He looked completely done in. But at Pegasus' words, he sat up straighter. "I wanted to compare notes," he said a little stiffly, "to talk about our progress."

"Progress, Donald?" It was Pegasus' company-voice. He continued, speaking lower again: "Do you think there are servants about, Yami?"

His companion shook his head.

"You've spent too much time in hotels," Pegasus said. "Dear boy, on one of these old family estates, there are always servants about. They're like black beetles in a London kitchen. You don't see them most of the time, but get up too early, or take a turn down the wrong corridor, and there they'll all be, scurrying about."

"See that hole there?" He spoke lightly, and pointed at a place where rodents had nibbled the wainscotting, his smile humorous. "I daresay if you looked in there, you'd find a housemaid or two. Possibly a footman as well.

Yami was sitting up straight now, and looking at him unamused. "Is there a point?"

"I suppose the point is, that you know all this," Pegasus said. "You've never been one who needed your hand held while we did a job. What's happened that's rattled you, ah, _Donald_?"

"It's nothing." Yami frowned. "I think one of Yuugi's friends suspects me. Her name's Téa Gardiner," he continued. "We went to tea at the ABC after I picked up Yuugi, and she was asking some very searching questions."

"So charm her," -

"So maybe she can't be charmed, not everybody is charmable, Pegasus." Yami was sitting up very straight now, and he looked ...unhappy, frustrated maybe. "She only wants to protect Yuugi," he said. "Can you blame her?"

It was the boy, of course, Donald's brother. Pegasus had seen how quickly Yami had taken to him when they met. He'd seen how Yuugi made any effort, to spend time with his "brother".

"Don't start feeling guilty on me," he told Yami. "We're not doing the boy any harm. "One little emerald, do you think Yuugi even cares about it?" he said, pushing back his awareness that Yuugi's father, at least, cared a great deal about this family heirloom. "Do you think any of them will notice, live any differently, once it's gone?"

"Please, Yuugi doesn't care for that emerald thing at all." Yami made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Of course not," Pegasus began, then stopped, as Yami just kept on talking.

"He dreams of becoming an architect," he said with a fond tone in his voice, "a landscape artist or an Egyptologist.. a professor of course, not working in the field. He can't stay away from his family too long, or else he'd get sick."

"A peer of the realm, working with his hands?" Pegasus laughed. "Jardine's right, that boy's been too sheltered. It's time he grew up and learned some common sense." He looked up, but instead of sharing his amusement, Yami was looking at him, a little affronted.

"Yuugi's something special," he said. "He's honest, and totally open with everyone. It's no wonder that girl Téa is so adamant about protecting him."

"He's a dreamer, if that's what you mean." Pegasus looked at his partner. "You're not falling for his dreams, are you? You've been around enough, you should know: Peers can afford to live in Cloud Cuckooland. They can send the heir to the title off to India and let God knows what happen to him, and raise a younger son so innocent, he thinks he's going to _grow up to be a landscape architect_." - The sarcasm was heavy in his voice. - "That's all right for them," he said, "but some of us have to earn our living. Don't lose your perspective, Yami."

"My perspective's fine." Yami looked away from Pegasus, stared out the window, where dusk was closing in on the house now, still visible through the undrawn curtains.

"Mother is planning to have a birthday tea, for Donald on Saturday," he said in a stiff tone. "Nothing big, Yuugi tells me, just a frosted cake and a few presents. It's when I'll get the Emerald, I suppose."

"Of course," Pegasus said. "And your 'father' will expect you to wear it on Christmas." He smiled. "I wonder if he's already got the Scots costume you're to wear it with, or if you'll have to have one fitted. You'll look good in Scots costume," he said.

It wasn't everyone who could carry off Scots costume, Pegasus thought. Most men didn't have the knees for it. With some, their legs were too bony, with others - And a lot of trueborn Scotsmen fell in this category. - their natural ginger-coloring made for legs that were comical, all pink-colored and hairy. Yami though, with his slim body and golden-colored skin, would carry off the kilt to perfection, and his natural dignity would rise above the more ridiculous details of the costume, such as that furry pocket-that hung right over a man's willy, and the rather egregious color-clash there was going to be, between the Jardine family tartan, and the Lochmaben Emerald. ...The Emerald, he thought smiling, now they knew when they'd have it in their possession.

Yami was not smiling. He stared out the window at the gathering darkness, with an expression that was glum and angry at the same time.

"You're not hurting the boy," Pegasus told him. "You're just taking an ornament he doesn't care about anyway. He'll still have his family, he'll still have all his friends, and you said that's what matters to him, didn't you?"

A nod, half-sketched, was all the response Yami gave him, but Pegasus, who wasn't good with encouraging words in the first place, had run out of them. "Buck up," he said, clapping his partner on his stiff, tense shoulder. "Keep telling yourself this is just another job," he told him. "When we're celebrating the New Year on the Cote d'Azur, it'll all be behind us."

Yami didn't answer for a long moment. Then he drew a deep sigh. "Right." He stood. "I'd better go get dressed for dinner," he said. "My _family_" - And was Pegasus imagining the bitter edge he put to the word? - "might wonder if I'm late."

* * *

><p>Normally, Yami liked wearing his dinner clothes. He liked the slim look of his figure, dressed all in black, and the contrast of his golden-tanned skin, against his white shirt front. Tonight, they gave him no pleasure. All he could think was, how stupid it was the way the gentry made you dress up in a monkey suit just to eat. It was of a piece with all the other stupidities of these upper-crust people, how they lived, all isolated, with servants to attend their every whim, and how they raised their children to know nothing of the world. Pegasus was right, he thought, the whole Jardine family was out of touch with reality. What kind of people, he thought, let the heir to an Earldom go jaunting off to India to get himself killed, when he should have been at home learning to ...learning to Earl, or whatever it was called? What kind of people raised their second son, so innocent that he honestly didn't think anyone would betray him? Didn't they know someone always betrayed everyone? It was part of life, and they'd sheltered Yuugi from it. Now he was going to get hurt, and it was <em>their fault.<em>

He came down the stairs feeling distinctly angry with the Jardines, his so-called _parents_, for the careless way they'd treated their children. He didn't feel angry at Pegasus for what he'd said to him earlier, in his room. After all, his partner in crime had only told him the truth: This was another job for them, and Yuugi was just another mark, and it was best to get done what needed doing, without a lot of emotional involvement. He didn't feel angry at Yuugi either, he told himself. After all, it wasn't the boy's fault, he'd been raised as sheltered and petted as any old widow's lapdog. It wasn't his fault, he didn't have a clue about reality.

But he didn't. He thought life was all big dreams, and good friends, and happy times, but it wasn't. Life was hard, outside Yuugi's sheltered, cosseted little enclave. Real people had to work, to put food on the table, and sometimes they had to do things they weren't proud of. Sometimes people got hurt. It was inevitable, and the only people that were surprised by it, were the petted, over-privileged sons of the nobility, who'd been raised so they were still children at 18

He entered the dining room, and its fanciness just irritated him the more. A sleek white tablecloth, set with old bone china, and silverware so heavy, and elegant, that all by itself, it could pay a couple months of his and Pegasus' living expenses; candles flickering, because even though the Jardines had gas lighting, his "mother" always said it was too harsh and glaring for the dinner table. He sat in his customary place, and Yuugi, next to him, gave him a smile.

"Mother had Cook prepare the mutton rare," he said, "the way you always liked it." Meanwhile, behind him and Yami, a footman bent, pouring some kind of fancy red wine, a little, with water, for Yuugi, a full glass for the "older brother". A second one brought the soup, which had sort of a curry-smell to it, no doubt in Donald's honor. Yami's heart sank more than it already had. He liked his fancy food, and the occasional glass of fancy wine to go with it, as well as the next man, but this wasn't just food, he was being given. This was family ties made visible, and a lot of love being offered, not for him, but for Donald, who had probably been dust for a couple of years now. Every bite he took, and every bit of enjoyment he got from it, would be satisfaction and happiness now, for the Jardines sitting at the table eating with him. But it would only hurt them the worse - It would only hurt _Yuugi _the worse. - later on, wouldn't it, when they found out it was all a lie.

If Yuugi was taken aback or offended that his "brother" wasn't replying, he didn't show it, just eating his soup with a smile on his face, enjoying the spicy taste of it. Pegasus, on the other side of the table next to the Countess looked perfectly at-ease as well. As for the Countess, she and her husband took their time eating, sending fond glances toward Yuugi and "Donald", as though still unable to believe their eldest son had returned.

The problem was, that he hadn't. The problem, Yami thought, was that he wasn't Donald. He'd grown up in harsh circumstances, with plenty of nights sleeping with an empty stomach on a cold bench, or a hard bunk at a 'friend's' house. He had longed for wealth and luxury his entire life, and he had gotten it when he 'hooked up' with Pegasus. He learned how to lie, learned how to betray, learned how to steal. It had given him the luxury he longed for, but it had never given him any warmth. This was what he'd been missing out on his entire life. The stability and warm home that only a family could give him. And now that he seemed to have found it, he was about to destroy it. The soup was tasty, and he tried to eat it, but it was hard to force anything down, bitter as he felt. Only the wine went down easily, and Yami drank it quickly, while his soup remained mostly untouched.

Yuugi, for his part, talked cheerfully about everything the way he normally did, ignoring, or glossing over his "brother's" silence until his soup was gone. Then, he set down his spoon and looked at him. "Donald," he said, "what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Yami tried to keep his voice calm, but it was hard, as tense as he felt. "Why should anything be wrong?" he all but demanded.

Yuugi's eyes widened. "Donald?" he said.

"I'm tired," Yami told his "brother". "Just let it go at that, will you? I'm tired, and I didn't eat my soup yet. Just as he lifted his spoon out of the now-congealing stuff in his bowl and prepared to take a bite, another footman appeared behind him to take it. "God damn it," he burst out before he could stop himself. "Can't a man bloody eat in peace?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back again. Yami looked up (as the footman discretely set a plate of mutton and vegetables in front of him and moved on) to see the whole table looking at him, his "mother" shocked, his "father" disapproving, and Pegasus, of course, looking nervous.

"I'm sorry, I ...I misspoke." Yami searched his conman's repertoire; surely the right words had to be in there somewhere. But somehow, they were not.

"He's sickening for something," the Countess said. "Donald always was grumpy when he wasn't feeling well. Did you see?" She had to raise her voice as she continued, as her husband was weighing in with his own opinion at the same time. "He hardly touched his soup. Donald dear, do you feel feverish at all?"

Meanwhile from the head of the table, "he's forgotten how to behave in polite company," her husband said in tones of outrage. Looking at his "son", "I don't know how they do things in India," he told him, "but here in Scotland, we have manners. This is neither the time nor the place for gutter language, Donald."

"You're right of course, Margaret." Pegasus' light tone was soothing balm for the whole further company (which was further soothed, as another footman came round behind the one with the food, pouring everyone refills on the wine). "I've often noticed it," he said. "When Donald's tired, he gets irritable." He gave Yuugi a teasing smile. "I don't know what you two did while you were out, that got him so tired.

"Me?" Yuugi started, guilt already flooding his face. Pegasus was taking entirely the wrong note with him, Yami knew it, and he knew exactly what he should have said, that would have put things right in a moment. Only his black mood clung to him, and somehow he couldn't get the words out.

"Did you throw him out of the pony cart and make him walk back to the castle?" Pegasus' words were playful enough, but Yami could tell by Yuugi's deepening blush, that they were making him feel worse, rather than better.

"I just ...we just talked," he faltered. "A-and we went to the ABC."

"The ABC?" The Countess stared at her younger son. "A teashop? Yuugi, you know Cook would have served you tea at home."

"We went," - Yuugi darted a glance toward his father. - "w-with Joey, Tristan and Téa." He looked like he'd shrunk, his eyes violet pools of misery, his voice soft and nervous. Yami fought back the waves of guilt that surged through him. It was his fault Yuugi was being put on the hot spot. He was the one who'd caused a fuss and drawn everyone's attention. He could make things right now, with just a few words, but those words didn't want to come.

"_Shopkeepers' _children." The Earl's comment was brief, but pointed, and the criticism in it made Yuugi blush and stammer all the more.

"We had ...tea," he said, "a-and cakes. And we talked about everything what came up to mind. Maybe it was too much for Donald. Maybe I tired him out." Like always, Yuugi took the responsibility on himself. He wouldn't think to say a bad word about his beloved 'brother', but would always defend him with his life.

"Big brother Donald" should say something right now, and Yami knew it. He should talk to his father and stand up for Yuugi. He knew it, but he just couldn't make himself do it, because it would all be part of the con. He didn't want to playact Donald, he wanted to be him, for the rest of his life. It wasn't even the money he wanted, he thought, it was the family. He wanted a stern but loving father like the Earl, and a doting, protective mother like the Countess. He wanted a younger brother who looked up to him, who gave trust, and encouragement ...and love, as generously and eagerly as Yuugi did. And he'd never have it, would he? The best he could ever hope for, was to go through life unscathed and frivolous like Pegasus, conning other frivolous people out of their jewelry, flitting from luxury hotel to luxury hotel, but never with a family, never with anyone, anywhere, who really loved him.

Yami didn't realize he had sunken deep in his thoughts while silence had fallen over the table. Then he felt Yuugi's hand on his arm and he looked up.

"Donald," his brother said. "I ...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Now when he needed big brother Donald more than he ever had, Yami couldn't find him, not at all. He couldn't find Yami-the-conman, Pegasus' partner. All that was there was the motherless street kid who'd used to stare into lighted windows back in London, and envy the happy families he'd see there, and here he was now again, on the outside of another family circle.

"I'm not hungry." Yami pulled his arm away from Yuugi and got up, shoving his chair back. "I'm going to my room," he said. And don't come after me." He threw a look of nothing but anger at Yuugi, and fled the dining room, trying to forget the look of shock and pain he'd seen in his "brother's" eyes.

Taking the two long flights of stairs, and the equally long corridor that led to Donald's room at a fast pace, almost a run, did nothing to cool Yami's temper. He burst into the room, and he threw the door shut behind him, the noise immediately muffled by the stone walls, and all the expensive distance between him and the dining room. Slamming a door in a castle wasn't very satisfying, and neither was holing up in this room that so very clearly wasn't his. All around him were reminders of the missing Donald. Yami kicked Donald's chair out of the way as he crossed the room. He shoved Donald's copy of _Kim _that he'd left open on the bed earlier, onto the floor, and sat down (on Donald's coverlet). "God damn it," he muttered, not in the snooty, upper-crust tones Pegasus had taught him, but in his own natural, East-London Cockney accent. "Bloody 'ell, why can't they leave a man alone?"

He didn't normally lose control over himself like this. What was wrong? Where was the perspective he normally kept during a con? ...Where was his survivor's instinct? Yami sat on the bed. He stared into space at nothing, while his mind filled up with pictures: He saw the Countess' face, protective, worried, filled with concern for the older son she loved so much. He saw the Earl's, dignified, full of the authority he wanted both his sons to learn. Most of all, he saw Yuugi's. First he pictured the happiness that had been there during their ride home that afternoon. Then he the look of worry his "brother" had given him at the dinner table, and then the shocked, pained expression that had filled his face when Yami had lashed out at him.

He was fucked if he couldn't hold onto his perspective, he told himself. This was just another con, it had to be, because there sure as hell was no future for him with the Jardine family. He had a job to do, and he'd better do it and get the fuck out, before he and Pegasus were found out, before he was exposed as the fraud he was and he lost Yuugi's friendship forever. ...He stared at the wall, and he told himself he was going to be cold and detached like Pegasus from now on. After a while he stretched out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling instead, and telling himself how he was going to keep an emotional distance from Yuugi. He was going to play the role of Donald for him, give him the big brother he wanted so badly for as long as he was here. What was the harm? At least Yuugi would have Donald back for a few weeks, at least he'd have this one Christmas with him to remember.


	7. That Night, Donald's Bedroom

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

At first he didn't realize he'd been asleep when the knock came. He heard it, soft at first, and then again, louder, and at first he thought no time had passed, and someone had followed him up here from the dining room. Then he realized he was lying curled up on top of Donald's coverlet. He was still fully dressed, the gas was still burning, and a little dampness under his face showed he'd been drooling on his pillow. So much for his dignity, so much for the polished facade Pegasus liked them to maintain during a con. Yami sat up, running his fingers through his hair in a quick attempt to make it look less slept-on.

It was Pegasus at the door, he told himself. He was here to give his protegee a lecture, and he had every right. After some time by himself to think about it, Yami was ready to acknowledge that his behavior at dinner had been unprofessional in the extreme. He had the words all ready to tell his mentor so, and to apologize, when he heard Yuugi's voice.

"Donald, may I come in?" He sounded meek. Maybe it was just the heavy door muffling his voice, but he sounded meek, and a little uncertain about the response he'd get. "Is it all right, Donald?" he called, and he waited for Yami's response before opening the door.

Still half-awake, it took Yami a moment to realize why Yuugi would be knocking, and why he'd sound upset like that. A vague sense of guilt settled over him. He'd wronged his "brother". He'd known he would, and he had. The details took a little longer to come back to him. Meanwhile, Yuugi knocked again.

"Donald," he called. "Are you all right? Do you want me to call Mother?"

That was the one that got him. Yami, who'd been moving slowly, guilt for the way he'd treated Yuugi warring with the leftover resentment he still felt inside him, sprang up and across the room, at the thought of the Countess coming up here and clucking at him and maybe giving him medicine. He opened the door with a hurried, "I'm all right, I was just asleep. Come in, Yuugi," he added.

Yuugi was in night-clothes, his bare feet pink with cold. He came in and went straight to the bed and sat down with his feet tucked under him. "I was in bed too," he said. "Mother would kill me if she knew I wasn't asleep by now." Looking up at his "brother", and noticing he was still dressed, "are you sure you're all right?" he said. "It _was_going to the ABC that did it, wasn't it? I tired you out. I'm sorry, Donald."

Donald. Because it was "Donald" Yuugi cared about, wasn't it? Yami frowned. "I'm fine," he said, his voice a little stiff. "I was fine at dinner." He made himself cross the room to sit next to Yuugi on the bed. "Why are you here?" he asked him. "You should be in bed by now."

"I was in bed, only I couldn't sleep." Yuugi looked at him, with concern in his wide violet eyes, along with the comfortable trust that he would be welcome in his "brother's" room, sharing space on his bed with him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said.

"_You_ came to say that _you're_sorry?" Donald could relax on the bed with his brother, but he wasn't Donald, and this wasn't his bed. It was going to be hard enough leaving Yuugi; every cuddle and relaxed moment of "brotherly" intimacy would just make it harder. Yami sat up straight, and he stayed at the end of the bed, away from his "brother". "You didn't do anything, Yuugi," he said stiffly.

"I had to have," Yuugi said. "Or else why are you so angry? Did I talk too much on the way home? Did you - I don't know. - did you not want to hear about Téa? Did you not want to meet my friends? I don't know what I did," he said, "but I'm sorry. I just want us to be like we were on the drive home again." He showed Yami a napkin-wrapped bundle he was carrying. "You didn't get any dinner," he said. "Are you hungry?"

Yami was starved. And it was hard to hold out against the onslaught of Yuugi's friendliness. How much more hurt was he letting himself in for really, he asked himself, if he just gave in this once? And besides, he had the con to think of, didn't he? He couldn't play Donald properly if he held himself aloof _all _the time. "I have to say yes, don't I?" he said. "Otherwise you'll call the - you'll call Mother, and she'll fuss over me."

All it took was a little unbending on "Donald's" part, and Yuugi cheered right up. He gave a little laugh. "She'll dose you with castor oil," he said. "She was saying at dinner that she wanted to." He handed his brother the bundle. "I got these from the larder for you," he said.

Yami opened the napkin. "Fairy cakes?"

Cuddling closer to him on the bed as if confident he'd be welcome to, "I wanted to bring some of the ice cream from dinner," Yuugi said. He laughed, adding, "only I couldn't get it into the napkin.

There were several fairy cakes in the napkin, five or six at least, and Yami remembered how good they were from the day before. Just looking at them made his stomach growl; he couldn't hold himself aloof now if he'd wanted to. He took the top one, pink-frosted and covered with coconut, and handed it to Yuugi. "You've got to share them with me," he said.

Yuugi took a bite. "We'll share it." He offered him the bitten cake. "I know you like the coconut ones."

Part of Yami still wanted to hold himself aloof. It was no good pretending, there was going to come a day when he'd have to leave, and he'd never see Yuugi, much less play at being his brother or cuddle or share cakes with him again. But Yuugi's smile, pink-frosted and sprinkled lightly with coconut, was irresistible. He bent and took a bite from the cake in Yuugi's hand. As he sat up again, he leaned in closer, one arm going around his "brother's" waist.

Once he let himself relax, everything he needed to be "Donald" came back to him again. - It was Donald, wasn't it? It had to be, because otherwise it would hurt too much when he left. - Yami grinned wickedly. "You didn't get some of that mutton to bring me too, did you?"

"Mutton?" Yuugi's eyes turned round and horrified at once. "Oh Donald, I'm sorry!"

"Never mind." Yami tightened his arm around Yuugi's waist, hugging him. - It was what _Donald _would do, wasn't it? - "I was teasing." he said, and then, when Yuugi's face didn't clear right away, he added, "if we eat all these and we're still hungry, we'll go down to the larder together and get whatever we want."

He felt Yuugi's body relax against his again. "Just like old times," he said. "Remember the time you and I went down to the larder, and we found that Summer Pudding, and we ate the whole thing?" He laughed. "And it turned out Cook had made it for my birthday tea, and Mother was so angry she sent both of us to the nursery with no supper?" He cuddled closer. "Good times, Donald."

Yami fought back a surge of envy at thought of the carefree young Donald, his raspberry speared hand clasping Yuugi's, as they went up to the nursery together. "Good times." he echoed, swallowing fairy cake past the lump that had appeared in his throat. As he leaned close to Yuugi, he tried to focus, not on the past that hadn't been his, or the future when he would have to go away, but just on the here-and-now, just on the fairy cakes, and the warm moment he got to share with him. "It's cold up here," he said. "Let's get under the covers and get warm.

"Not now, silly." Yuugi laughed. "You're still dressed." He was up and rummaging through his "brother's" open trunk before Yami (who didn't remember what revealing secrets might be in there, close to the top and easy to find) could stop him, and in no time he'd pulled out a rumpled nightshirt. "Here," he said. "Get undressed, and then we'll get under the covers and warm each other just like we used to."

"Undressed?" Yami felt his cheeks flame. He swallowed. Of course he had to get undressed if he was going to get under the covers with Yuugi. And he had to get under the covers with Yuugi if that's what Donald would have done, right? ...And why it made him so uncomfortable just thinking about it, he couldn't have said, so he told himself that it didn't, he was just fine with it, and he pushed any thoughts that he might not be, out of his mind.

He was still just standing there, when he felt Yuugi touching him, unbuttoning the jacket of his evening suit. "Hurry." There was laughter in hhis voice, just a little fond laughter. "You're still half asleep, Donald." As he spoke, Yuugi was sliding Yami's jacket off his shoulders, tossing it, half-folded, onto a chair. "Do I have to do everything for you?" he said.

The thoughts came surging back, and for just a moment, Yami let them. He imagined Yuugi's hands against his bare skin, and it wasn't an uncomfortable thought, it was kind of attractive. But it was entirely the wrong kind of thought to be having right now. He was Yuugi's "brother". - He was Yuugi's "brother", who would be leaving in three weeks, but leave that aside for now. - He was part of the family, so he certainly could never approach him as a lover, or even think of him as one. Yami swallowed. Then he looked at his "brother" with Donald's teasing grin.

"Yes, I want you to do everything for me," he said. "Take off my shoes, little brother. Undo the dropseat on my union suit and see if my bottom's dirty." Yuugi's giggles said it was the exact right response; Yami told himself that was why they gave him so much pleasure. "Take off my socks for me," he said. "I think there's some Indian foot-germs in there I want you to attend to."

"Indian foot-germs?" Yuugi shoved the nightshirt into his "brother's" hands and collapsed onto the bed, still giggling. "That's disgusting, Donald. Let me see."

One thing about the teasing conversation, was that it almost distracted him from the fact that he was naked in front of Yuugi ...almost. Yami tossed his clothes onto the chair and shimmied the nightshirt over his head. "See?" He waved one foot in his "brother's" direction. "See the foot-germs? And I'm going to put them all over you."

Yuugi laughed. "Well my feet are cold," he said, "and I'm going to put them all over you." He gave a shiver. "Hurry up, Donald. This bed isn't getting any warmer."

Yami hurried. He crossed the room, the floor feeling like ice against his newly bare feet, and climbed into bed, and there was a moment of confusion, as he went to take the side nearest the wall, just as Yuugi went to take it himself, and give the better side, next to the lamp, to him. Then they were both in, with the covers tucked up high, and Yuugi's head resting against his shoulder.

It was a strangely comfortable position, very different from sharing a hotel bed with Pegasus. Those were so big they could lie at either end and never touch each other (which came in handy when Pegasus woke up early every morning, and read the newspapers), while with Donald's little bed, Yami either had to cuddle close to his "brother", or fall out. He wanted to cuddle close at any rate, because it took a while for the covers to get really warm, while Yuugi's body was already so warm that just touching him, made Yami feel nice and cozy. The question wasn't whether he should touch his "brother" in bed, it was how much, and whether there was any way that they could get more parts of their bodies into contact.

Yuugi seemed to feel the same way. He'd turned so his backside was toward the wall, both arms wrapped tightly around his "brother's" shoulders, and he appeared to be doing his best to make sure that as much of him touched Yami as possible, his head, his arms, his torso, and his cold bare feet. Yami recoiled when he felt them, like big blocks of ice, against his legs. Yuugi chuckled, then moved to tuck a fold of blanket in between his feet and Yami's legs. He sighed and cuddled closer.

"Tell me about India," he said. "Tell me about hunting tigers - Did you ever hunt tigers, Donald? Oh, and about elephants. Tell me about elephants."

"Oh, elephants, they're not so much." Yami wasn't thinking about the pretense, or about being "Donald", he was just thinking how pleasant it was to cuddle with Yuugi, under the rapidly warming covers. "They're just pack animals," he said. "Like big, lumpy donkeys."

"Donkeys?" Yuugi chuckled. "How about tigers," he said. "What are they like?"

"Like pussycats," Yami said to more appreciative chuckling, "really giant, really dangerous pussycats. Imagine Cook's tabby," he said, "only imagine you're the mouse. - I never got close to a tiger," he added, as he heard Yuugi's horrified intake of breath. "I just heard stories."

"You were always fascinated by India," Yuugi said. His face was right under Yami's chin, and every time he spoke, Yami felt his breath, soft and warm, against his own cheek. "Remember all those books you used to read? Mother and Father were so angry when you said you were going to get a job with the East India Company. And Mother was sure you'd come back dead. She wants you back for good now, Donald, and so do I," he said.

"I know," Yami murmured. The vague rigmarole he and Pegasus had given his "parents" right after they'd arrived, about him having to return to India in January was his life-preserver. It was what gave him the freedom to cuddle, and enjoy his "brother's" company like this. He stroked Yuugi's hair. "You know how it is," he said vaguely.

There was a long moment of silence. Everyone thought of Yuugi like a child, but his body was a man's body, Yami thought. There was a man's musculature there, a man's bone structure. People missed it, because he was small, and because he still dressed and acted like a boy, but he was as much an adult as Pegasus. Yami's hand on his "brother's" leg froze. He did _not _want to think about Pegasus, his partner and sometime-lover, who always let him be free with his body, and touch him wherever he wanted to, with whatever intention, not here, not right now. This was different, it had to be. And besides, Yuugi didn't want him for a lover, did he? He wanted that girl he'd met this afternoon, that nosy Miss Gardiner. And it was just as well. It would be hard enough to say good-bye to a "brother", come January. Leaving Yuugi if they were lovers, would break his heart.

"I really admire you, Donald," Yuugi interrupted Yami's thoughts. "You know what you want, and you always get it. I wish I were strong and determined like you."

"I wanted to see more of the world than just Scotland." The answer felt pre-made, but Yami didn't really know what to say. Now that the thought of him and Yuugi being lovers had come into his mind, it was all he could think of. He wouldn't have to do much, just slide his hand under that loose-fitting nightshirt he wore, and he'd be touching bare skin, just turn his head, and he could kiss that dreamy, untouched smile right off his "brother's" face.

"I wouldn't dare to do it," Yuugi said, and Yami had to struggle to remember what it was his "brother" wouldn't dare to do. Crazy thought: for a moment he thought he was saying he wouldn't dare kiss him. "I like Scotland. I like being at home here with Mother and Father. It's because I'm the weaker one."

Yami blinked at the sudden self-criticism. "Does the - Does Father say that?" he said. "Don't you say that about yourself! You're not weak, Yuugi."

"But I am." Yuugi smiled at his 'brother', looking a little wistful. "Mother always protected me, she still does. And Father, well, Father loves me, but I know I disappoint him."

"Don't ever talk about yourself like that," Yami said. He hugged Yuugi tight, the feeling nothing but brotherly right now. "You're strong in your own way. You're kind, and loyal, and generous. Father is an ass if he can't see that, if he can't appreciate you for what you are."

Yuugi snickered a little at the description. Then he sobered. "He's not, you know," he said, "and you shouldn't say it, Donald. He just wants me to be more of a credit to the family, you can't blame him." He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't been born the son of an Earl," he said. "I wish we were just commoners, and we could do what we wanted, without always thinking of the family."

The pictures crowded back. Yami knew what he'd do if Yuugi were just a commoner ...and if they weren't supposedly "brothers". He didn't even care if he'd be turned down, he at least wanted to try, and see if he would respond to him. But that wasn't what Yuugi was thinking of, of course. "What would you do?" he asked him. "If you were a commoner, I mean. What would you do?"

"I'd be an architect." Yuugi relaxed close into Yami's arms. "Father says that's no job for a nobleman's son," he said. "He wants me to go to Oxford and get a classical education. But he had a firm come in this spring, and draw up plans for the renovation of the old Castle: I talked to the man in charge," he said, "and it's fascinating, all that goes into a job like that. He doesn't just have to know how to build things, there's historical research too, why the Castle was built the way it was, and what the rooms would have looked like. He's got to know as much as any classical scholar, I'd think. And his work is going to live on for centuries, how many scholars can say that?"

They'd talked about this before. This was the dream Yuugi had shared when they were driving home from the ABC. And what a dream! Yami, who knew about noblemen mostly through Pegasus' contemptuous descriptions of them, could no more picture an Earl letting his son take a job like architect, where he'd get his hands dirty, than he could picture one flying to the moon. Oh no, any proper nobleman would want his son sitting quietly at a desk somewhere with his hands folded. - Or at home with his wife making babies to carry on the family name. Yami leaned his cheek against Yuugi's. "You could run away," he said. "Why not do what I did, go do what you want to do. Don't worry what Father says. What's he going to do, disown you?"

Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn't work. Most architects learned the trade through apprenticeship and he could not imagine sheltered, petted Yuugi, fetching and carrying on a building site, or laying bricks. Besides that, they needed money to sustain a business until they started getting customers. - For just a moment, Yami pictured himself taking the Emerald, and Yuugi, and running off to London to sell it, and set his "brother" up in an architect's business with the proceeds. Oh, how Pegasus would squawk! Not to mention how the Jardines would react of course.

"I can't, Donald." Yuugi interrupted his thoughts again. "I'm not like you," he said. "I don't want to leave home. I wouldn't be happy somewhere else, estranged from my family. I'll do as Father wishes, I guess," he said, sounding a little glum. "I'll give up my dreams and go to Oxford and study classics."

'_Oh no you won't._' Yami bit back the words that wanted to come: '_I won't let you. You shall be an architect, Yuugi._' It was no business of his. He wasn't even going to be here. He was going to be in the Cote d'Azur with Pegasus. He stiffened, fighting his frustration.

"Donald? Something wrong?" Of course Yuugi would feel the tension. He was so close, he could feel every small movement.

"Noblemen can be architects too," Yami said, ignoring Yuugi's question. "And classical scholars. Did you ever hear of the Taj Mahal, the most beautiful building in India, and it was designed by the Emperor in the 17th century. So see? If Emperors can design buildings, Earls' brothers can too."

"Did you see the Taj Mahal when you were in India, Donald?" Yuugi was ignoring some of what his "brother" said too; Yami noticed it, as Yuugi turned the conversation away from his own dreams, but he didn't comment.

"Of course," he said. "The Company gives me ever so many vacations and chances to travel. I'm hardly at my desk at all. But there were no tigers there."

"Oh yes tigers." Yuugi snickered. "They're just like big pussycats." He stifled a yawn. "You should get one and keep him in your house, in case some really big mice get in." He looked at his brother with drowsy, violet eyes. "You going to eat the fairy cakes?" he asked.

"Maybe later." His cheek still against Yuugi's, Yami inhaled, breathing in the smell of his "brother's" shampoo, and something else, that could only be described as his Yuuginess. "It's warm under the covers," he said. "I'd get cold if I got out and got them."

"I'll get them for you," Yuugi offered predictably.

"No," Yami all but whispered. "You need your sleep." He hugged Yuugi tighter, watching as he closed his eyes and relaxed almost immediately into slumber, then closed his eyes himself. Sleep felt very, very far away.


	8. Saturday, at the Old Castle

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yuugi's late-night conversation with his brother stayed in his mind, but not in a bad way. He'd accepted the fact that he could probably never live his dream of being an architect. As a nobleman's son, his first duty was to the family, and the best goal for him, he was sure, was to stay home and live the quiet, dignified life his father had planned for him. But that wasn't so bad, really. There was plenty of architectural interest close by to the Jardine estate. For instance, there was the old castle his family had occupied in the Middle Ages; he made sure to speak to his mother the next day about going out there on Saturday, so he could show Donald the renovations being made.

"Oh how lovely," she'd told him. "We can bring the Colonel, and make a party of it." As she said that, Yuugi felt a little drop in his heart; it would have been nicer going out just him and Donald. But he couldn't deny Mother of course, and after all, it was going to be nice to show his brother around the castle whatever sort of circumstances it was done under.

Saturday dawned, clear and almost-warm. So close to the end of the year, the weather could be vile, with harsh downpours of rains, but today the sun was actually shining …sort of. Later on toward evening, the winds would pick up probably, perhaps blowing in rain, or even snow for tomorrow, but they would be home by then, and for now, the cold, dry weather was bracing. The party piled into the pony cart, all of them bundled in their warmest coats, and squeezed tightly together, what with the hamper that held their lunch, and the warming stones for their feet.

Mother sat up front with the Colonel. "The current house is five miles from the old castle," she told him. "We're up on a little hill now, but the castle's really elevated, you'll see when we get close. We'll cross the River Dee to get there. The Water of Ken's on the other side, and we'd cross that if we were going down to Drumfries. We won't of course," she said. "We're just straight home once we're done looking around." She gave a rippling laugh. "After being out in this cold wind a few hours, I'm sure we'll be quite happy to get back into the warm house."

As for himself, Yuugi sat in back, cuddled up close to his brother, against the cold winds that hit them as soon as the cart was on the road. He was glad to be sitting with Donald, who already knew all the history of the old castle, because that left him free to tell him all about Father's planned renovations. "Weatherby and Sons," he said, "that's the name of the architectural firm he's hired." He had his hands tucked under his arms for warmth, but when Donald pulled them out, to clasp them with his own, it made him smile. "They work out of Glasgow." - For some reason, his voice grew shaky for a moment, and he felt himself blush, as Donald squeezed his hands in his own. - "William Weatherby is the architect, he's about Father's age, and he has two sons who supervise the workmen. - Oh, and Donald, he's training oldest son, Gavin, and he let me work with him. - Gavin, I mean, not his father. - I drew some of the blueprints, Donald, and the plan for the northwest battlement is entirely my work. Gavin said he thought I showed promise."

Donald's laugh embarrassed Yuugi a little, and made him afraid he'd been talking too much again. But his brother hugged him tight right afterward. "Don't mind me," he said. "It still surprises me how much you've changed from the little boy I used to see when I'd come home on holiday. You've really found your passion, haven't you, Yuugi? I'm a little bit jealous."

For a while, he didn't say anything more, and neither did Donald. Travel was fast at first, as the little cart trundled downhill from the Jardine house, and out onto the road that led to the Castle. Yuugi leaned close to his brother and just watched the scenery flash by, the leafless branches of the trees, their shadows falling on the piles of brown leaves underneath. It felt good, knowing his brother approved of his choice, and it felt a little exciting as well. They were both breaking with tradition now, weren't they? They were both choosing their own identities, instead of letting their father dictate to them

The cart bowled along the road, whipping chilly breezes at the passengers, and Yuugi was glad for the warm pressure of Donald's hand around his, under the old plaid that covered them. He wanted to stay in that feeling of gladness, and simple brotherly content, but at the same time, little doubts kept creeping into his mind. Donald hadn't always been this affectionate, had he? Maybe it was just that he'd grown up, in the past seven years, and learned to appreciate his family more. But it was strange, even so, Yuugi thought, how most of the affection seemed to go to him, and only a little of it toward Mother and Father. A pat on the shoulder, a strand of hair quickly tucked behind his ear, the way he was holding his hand now: All those touches felt good, and they were kind of exciting too, in a way that was also confusing. But they weren't how Donald had used to deal with him. - For that matter, they weren't how most men dealt with his brother, were they?

The road had turned uphill now. Ahead, Yuugi could see the silver ripples of the River Dee, and the vast, greyish bulk of the old Castle beyond it. He pushed his uncomfortable thoughts away. There was nothing unusual in his feelings for Donald, or in his brother's for him. Hero-worship for an older brother was quite common, wasn't it? And what could be more natural than that a brother some several years older than the younger one, would take on a protective, almost parental role? Yuugi's spirits rose. He and Donald were the rebels in the family, he told himself. They had to stick together, support each other, in the face of the nay-sayers who wanted them to pursue a more conventional path.

"Donald, look!" Trundling over the bridge, still with half a mile to go before they reached the castle, there wasn't much one could make out yet, but Yuugi pointed anyhow. "Look past the hedgerow," he told his brother, "and you can just see the scaffolding Weatherby's men put up."

"Have you ever gone in the castle?" he asked.

Donald thought for a moment. "You know," he said, "I don't remember." - Up in the front seat, the Colonel began speaking as well, but he closed his mouth as soon as Donald spoke. "Mother, do you remember?" he said. "Did we ever come here when I was growing up?"

Mother laughed. "You'd better not have," she said. "I always gave strict orders for you and your brother to stay away. There's bats in there," she said, "and unstable flooring, and all kinds of hazards. Boys will be boys though, and I certainly wasn't watching you every minute of every day. Yuugi, do you remember? Did you two ever explore the castle?"

"I guess you wouldn't have had much chance." Yuugi gave Donald a fond look. "You were off at school so much, and you never did really make that many friends in Drumfries, did you?" He paused for a moment, wondering how many of his own exploits he ought to tell about to his mother, then admitted, "I went a couple of times with Joey and Tristan. And you know that strange boy Ryou Bakura, I hear he went with Tristan and Tea once, and they all climbed up the side of one of the towers." He heard his mother's sharp intake of shocked breath, and swallowed. "All's well that ends well though, right, Mother?"

"I suppose so." Mother's voice was tight. "We're here now at any rate," she continued, as the cart took the last turn, and they pulled to a stop in what had once been the courtyard of Castle Kirkconnell. The bare earth was rutted now, from the wheels of the wagons Mr. Weatherby and his men had been using, and there were bits of planking and nails and empty bottles scattered about, but to Yuugi, it looked better than it had used to, when the grass had been unscarred. He liked seeing these signs of activity, and thinking about the transformed castle they would lead to.

Yuugi jumped out of the cart as soon as it stopped, taking the lead as they proceeded across the courtyard to the gaping archway that was the entrance to the castle. "We're going into what used to be the Grand Hall, first," he called back, as the others struggled to catch up with him. "Back in the Fourteenth Century," there would have been guard houses out here in the courtyard. Mr. Weatherby told me those were usually made of wood, so they were destroyed when the castle was burned down." He shuddered, picturing it. "He said the men-at-arms who were guarding the castle that night probably died in the fire."

Catching up with him, Mother stared into the darkness inside the castle. "You've really gone in there, Yuugi?"

"It's not so dangerous, Mother." He put his arm around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. "Weatherby's men cleared all the bats out, and put up scaffolding to keep everything stable." He threw his brother a quick look as Donald caught up too. "It was more exciting before they started work. I wish I could show you the owl's nest Joey found when he climbed to the second floor."

Yuugi heard his mother's sniff of disapproval, and purposely lagged a little behind, to avoid more disapproval. He took his brother's arm, just so that Donald would lag behind with him, he told himself, ignoring the warm feeling that went through him as they touched. "Mother knows the history of the castle well enough," he said, his voice low. "She can tell the Colonel all about it." He grinned. "I'll tell you the exciting bits she doesn't know about, Donald."

Donald grinned back at him. "There's more?" he said. "I had no idea you were so daring." The approving words felt good; Yuugi could feel himself blushing. The quick hug Donald gave him right afterward, felt even better, it felt confusingly good, and made a little fluttery feeling start in his chest.

Ahead of them, Mother led the way into the castle. "This is where the laird would have held court," she said, the Colonel nodding interest as she spoke. "It's where grand feasts would have been held as well. - I'm sure you've seen paintings of what that would have looked like." She looked up, and the others followed her gaze, staring at the rough stone of the interior walls. "There would have been galleries above the Grand Hall, back then," she said, "and minstrels in them to give music for the feasts." - Or archers, Yuugi could have told her, during meetings when the laird was expecting some treachery. But he kept his mouth shut, preferring the private conversation he was sharing with Donald, to telling the Colonel and Mother about history.

"You can climb the scaffolding," he told Donald, looking up at the flimsy wooden structure of it as he spoke. "The workmen did it all the time when they were here. And one day I was here and Mr. Weatherby said I could give it a go, and I climbed all the way up and out onto what's left of the old castle roof." He laughed, adding, "and I told Joey about it at school the next day, and of course he wanted to try too. But Mr. Weatherby says he only wants people who know what they're doing, up there."

"And that's you." The approval in his brother's voice made Yuugi's heart lift. ""You're halfway to being an architect already, aren't you, Yuugi?"

"You're teasing me." Yuugi felt his face go hot again. He leaned against his brother. Mother would frown if she saw him do that, he knew it. For that matter, there were doubts in his own mind as well, about whether it was something he should be doing. But as he leaned closer, Donald's arm tightened around his shoulders, and the embrace felt so good, he just couldn't pull away from it. "I'm just an amateur, Donald." The fluttery feeling was back in his chest again, and his voice came out a little uneven. "And if Father has his way, I'll never be anything more."

Ahead of them, Mother looked back. "Yuugi, Donald," she said, "I'm going to show Max the private apartment area." Her eyebrows raised a little, as she saw them standing so close. "You'd best get a fire going if you're cold," she said. "We'll need one soon enough for the picnic anyhow."

"A fire, yes." The Colonel turned to look at them as well. An expression of great surprise went across his face, then he fixed Donald with a cold stare, very unlike his usual bland expression. "You'd best be quick about it too." For just a moment, his voice sounded tight, and angry. It lightened as he continued, "didn't I hear you say we were going to roast potatoes in the coals?"

"Just what I love most," - For a moment, Donald met the Colonel's stare and held it, a defiant expression on his own face. Then he grinned, looking ready for fun as before. - "charred balls of soot with a little bit of potato inside."

Yuugi couldn't summon a laugh; there were too many undercurrents to this conversation, and he barely understood any of them. But he met his brother's grin with one of his own. "You needn't eat the potatoes if you don't like them," he said. "Cook sent plenty of other things as well."

He smiled at his mother. Now more than ever, he felt that he'd rather he and Donald explore the castle by themselves, and leave her to entertain the Colonel somewhere else. "I'm going to show Donald the Northwest Tower," he told her. "You can actually go inside, now that Weatherby's men have stabilized it."

"Certainly dear," Mother said, "just don't go getting yourselves killed before luncheon."

Beside her, the Colonel looked like he wanted to disagree. Yuugi saw him throw Donald a quick glance. Then, when Donald didn't look up, his gaze went back to Mother. "Boys will be boys, eh, Margaret? I'll come with you at any rate," he said. "I'd rather look at the apartment area, than go back out into the wind to see the outer buildings."

There was a back exit to the Great Hall, that led out into an interior courtyard (called the Inner Ward, Gavin Weatherby had explained in October). The wall surrounding the Inner Ward was missing in a lot of places, and the Northeast Tower had tumbled down completely, but as he'd told Mother and the Colonel, the Northwest Tower still stood. You could go into it, and there was scaffolding in place so you could even climb to the top and look out over what was left of the castle's battlements. Yuugi loved the pure history of it. He loved walking where his ancestors had walked, and climbing up to look out over a scene that had changed little in the past five centuries. He'd taken his friends here one Saturday in November, just to share the excitement of it all. But it wasn't the history he was thinking about, as he led Donald across the Inner Ward.

"Mother's always so protective." He couldn't have said why he wanted to get his brother alone like this, but he wanted to. "It felt like they had secrets to tell each other, like every word, every touch that passed between them, was a secret to treasure.

"The Colonel too." Donald's voice sounded awkward. "He ...ah, he feels responsible for bringing me safe and sound back to Bangalore," he said.

The Northwest Tower was not spacious. Gavin Weatherby had said people didn't grow as large in medieval times, but even so, Yuugi had been amazed at the smallness when he first saw it. The men-at-arms who had to stay here to protect the castle would have been wearing armor, wouldn't they? And wouldn't that have taken up some space as well? He was glad of the smallness now, though, and of the makeshift door Weatherby's men had attached to the old doorway. With that closed, it felt like he and Donald had complete privacy. The room was narrow, and barely lit from the top, where the ceiling used to be, but it was theirs for now, theirs alone.

"I'll miss you when you go back to India." Yuugi took his brother's hands and looked up at him. Donald's eyes were a little darker than his or Father's, - That was just heredity, wasn't it? People never looked all the same, even if they were related. - but Yuugi didn't care about that right now. It was the warm expression in those eyes that mattered, and the way they were looking straight into his.

"I'll miss you too, Yuugi." Donald's voice was soft. "I'll miss you so much."

"Do you really have to go back?" Yuugi's heart was hammering in his chest, as he looked up at his brother. The fluttery feeling in his chest was back; he didn't know what it was, but it came from being close to Donald. "Father says you have responsibilities here, and," - Yuugi looked away, his face coloring, as he added, "and I would be so happy if you stayed."

"I..." By contrast, Donald's voice sounded rusty, like it was being forced out of him. Yuugi looked up just in time to see his brother bite hard on his lip. "Dammit, Yuugi," he said. "Why do you do this to me?"

"Then that means you're not staying?" Yuugi looked down again. A crushing disappointment filled him now, completely replacing the excitement that had been there before. "It'll be just these few weeks together, and then," -

"Yuugi, I can't." Donald's voice sounded a little shaky, and Yuugi looked up to see his deep-red eyes swimming in tears. "You don't understand."

"Six years, Donald." - He knew he was pushing his brother, but he couldn't help it. - "I was eleven the last time I saw you. Will I be 24 the next" -

His words were cut off as Donald's arms went around his waist, pulling him close. One minute they were just standing there looking at each other, the next minute, they were in each others' arms. Donald's mouth found his, and then they were kissing.

Donald raised his head. "I never want to leave you again, Yuugi." He held him tight, and Yuugi held his brother back, both their bodies as close as they could get them.

At first, all he wanted was more. He felt his body start trembling, just from the intensity of Donald's kiss, it felt like. Then his brother lifted his head, if he was going to come to his senses, this would have been the time to do it. He ought to say, "no, Donald," he ought to push him away. But instead, when Donald bent to kiss him again, Yuugi clung to him. The moment felt endless, like the cold little tower room was their private sanctuary, and they could stay as long as they wanted, unobserved by prying eyes. At the same time though, it seemed like Mother and the Colonel might discover them any second now. The moments ticked by, with the room still theirs alone, and the only sound in it, the gentle one of their kiss, but Yuugi found himself growing more and more nervous, as he thought of the inevitable interruption that was to come. Finally, he pushed his brother away.

"Donald, we can't do this." It was hard, saying something that was so much the opposite of what he wanted. It was Donald who'd kissed him, but Yuugi knew he'd wanted it too. Just that first touch of his brother's lips against his had been enough to tell him that this was what he'd been wanting all along. "It's wrong." He looked up into a look of pain on his brother's face that mirrored his own. The last thing he wanted to do, he thought, was to let go of Donald now. But how was waiting going to make it better?

"Yuugi, don't do this to me." At first, his brother just sounded surprised, as Yuugi turned away, moving toward the door of the tower room. "You can't be serious," he said, "not now." Then, just as Yuugi's hands brushed the door, he felt Donald's hands seize his wrists, stopping him. "This isn't my fault." He pushed him up against the wall of the tower room. "I didn't mean for it to happen," he said. "But has happened, Yuugi. You can't just walk away and pretend it hasn't."

"I won't kiss you if you don't want me to." Donald let go of his hands and turned away, the pain in his voice so marked that it was all Yuugi could do, not to run to him with another hug, just to make it go away. "Dammit," he said, "I never meant for this to happen. I love you, Yuugi." He turned back and took his brother's hands again, gently this time. "I know," - He swallowed. - "I know we don't have any kind of a future together," he said, "but tell me, please Yuugi: Do you love me too?"

Did he _love_ him? There was no doubt in Yuugi's mind. He wanted nothing more, right now, than to step into his brother's arms again and hold him, be held by him. Just holding his hands like this, felt like nothing. He craved Donald's mouth on his, Donald's arms tight around him. But they were _brothers_. Even the slightest touch was wrong, it was unnatural. Yuugi swallowed. "D-Donald..." He faltered, unsure how much he should say. What if his parents found out about this? What if Mother walked in right as he was saying it? This was unheard of, scandalous... but yet Yuugi already knew he had to at least say it. He couldn't let his brother go back to India without at least knowing his feelings.

"Yes, I love you." He took Donald's hands that were holding his own, and kissed them. "I never knew I could feel this way about anyone." As he spoke, the tears came to his eyes, and he felt his throat growing hoarse. Yuugi looked up into Donald's face, as a sudden idea came to him. "We could go to India," he said. That'll work, won't it?" he said. "They won't know we're brothers there. And they're not Christians," he said. "They won't mind that it's an unnatural relationship."

"Oh, Yuugi." Donald's voice sounded rough as well. He pulled Yuugi tight, and cradled his head against his own chest. "You'd give up your own home for me." - With one of his ears pressed tight against his brother's jacket, Yuugi could only hear a muffled version of his brother's voice, but it sounded like Donald was near tears. "No one's ever loved me that much before," he said.

"That's not true, Donald," Yuugi mumbled. "Father loves you, Mother loves you. You know how much they love both of us."

"I know," Donald said briefly. His arms around his brother tightened, and Yuugi felt him press a kiss against his head. "I know how you love them too," he said. "I can't ask you to give them up and go to India with me. I can't ask you to give up your home."

"Our home," Yuugi interrupted. Something about Donald's behavior was confusing him. He behaved as if their home didn't belong to him, as if Mother and Father ...weren't his mother and father. He didn't have time to think about it now though, as with an abrupt move, Donald pushed him away, and turned, to pace the narrow confines of the tower room.

"Our home, yes of course." Donald turned, staring into Yuugi's face. "I'd have given anything for things not to have gone like this," he said. "I've never loved anyone before, not like I love you, Yuugi. If I'd known what would happen..." He stopped short, then stood silent, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"We've always been close though." The confusion was back again. Yes, they'd been close, at least when his brother had been home they had. But had Donald ever been affectionate like he was now? Had Yuugi ever seen him _cry_ before?

"I never thought..." Donald was talking to himself now, not looking at Yuugi, not expecting any response from him. "When I came here, I never expected..." Suddenly, his face went smooth, and his manner was the bland one he usually wore again. He was at the door before Yuugi even realized what had caused the change. He opened the door, calling a greeting to Mother and the Colonel, whom Yuugi could see now, coming in the distance.

"Mother, Colonel." His voice was light, and pleasant again. Yuugi, who was still mopping tears away, and worrying about how he'd explain his reddened eyes to his mother, wished he could recover so easily. "So," Donald said, "you decided to brave the cold out here after all?"

"It can't be colder than it was in the apartment wing," Mother said, similarly light. "I think there must have been ghosts in there, it was so cold." She was wearing the Colonel's greatcoat, Yuugi noted, and had both her hands in his.

The Colonel laughed. "If we'd stayed longer, I'd probably have had to give her my trousers as well," he said lightly.

Mother, for her part, turned a shade pinker, but she joined in the laugh that followed. "And what have you found, boys?" she asked, looking around the tower room. "Yuugi, can you tell us anything about what this room would have been used for?"

She sounded just a little bit guilty, and another time Yuugi might have worried a little at it. Right now, he was just glad to avoid any awkward subjects, hers, or his and Donald's. "There used to be towers at all four corners of the castle." He led the way back out into the weak morning sunlight as he spoke. "Gavin Weatherby showed me where you can still see the foundations from the Northeast Tower," he said. "Would you like me to show you?"

"I'd love to see that." Mother broke away from the Colonel's side and moved over to take Yuugi's arm. She walked quickly, quicker than Yuugi would have done himself, crossing the rough unevenness that used to be the castle's Inner Ward without watching where she was going. Then suddenly, she caught her foot on a projecting bit of rock, and tripped, tightening her grip on Yuugi's arm to avoid falling. "Dammit," she said, then, when she realized what she'd said, "oh my goodness. I'm sorry, boys, Colonel."

"Mother, that rock's part of the Northeast Tower." Yuugi could tell even while he was talking, that none of them were listening. Mother had turned to catch the Colonel's eye, and he was looking back, with an expression that mixed concern with amusement. Meanwhile, Donald came up close to him, cupping his cheek for just a moment.

"Stay with me tonight," he said, his voice very low. "Please." He pulled away and was back walking at the Colonel's side before Yuugi could answer.

Yes, the answer would be yes. Yuugi knew there was more to Donald's request than jut the words. This wasn't going to be just two brothers sharing a bed, like last time. He didn't know what would be involved, but he didn't care. Whatever it was, he wanted it; his time with Donald was too short for him to pick and choose. But he would have to tell him that later. For now, his mother was speaking to him again.

"Is it?" Mother gave a laugh. "Oh silly me," she said. "What a mistake to make!" Taking a step backward, "well show us, will you?" she asked Yuugi. "I won't get in the way again."

"Yes, show us, please." There was something hard, cynical-sounding in Colonel Crawford's tone, that made Yuugi look up at him for a moment. The unusual style that he wore his hair in, meant that only one brown eye was visible, but there was a coldness in his gaze that hadn't been there before, he thought. It was like he _knew._. - But Yuugi pushed that thought aside right away. How could he... What was there to know anyway? Nothing had happened ...yet. He swallowed, a little uncomfortable, and looked back at his mother.

"The guard-towers were round," he explained, looking from her, to Donald, and then venturing a glance at Colonel Crawford (who now looked as bland as he always did). "They stood at the four corners of the wall that protected the castle. Here, Mother," he said, offering her his arm as he spoke, "take another step back, will you? And another?" Now that he had her positioned, he could see the outline of the foundation stones quite clearly.

"Oh Yuugi, I don't see anything." Mother looked at the ground, but carelessly, as if it didn't much matter to her what she did or did not see there. "Perhaps we're in the wrong place, dear?"

"No, look, Mother." He walked the entire circle, tracing the foundation stones with his finger as he went. "See? There it is. It's just the foundation, Mr. Weatherby said, because after the fire, the peasants probably came and made off with the stone, a little at a time, to build houses and things."

"Well there's one thing I know more about than you dear," Mother said. "I was beginning to wonder how I'd keep up with my architecture-expert son." Yuugi looked up - Did he just catch sight of Colonel Crawford, moving away from Donald's side? It was his imagination, surely. - and smiled at her fond laugh. "It was your ancestors that took some of the stone," she said. "If you'll look when we get home, you'll see the old wing of the house is built from it." She shrugged playfully. "Waste not want not," she said, "isn't that how the Scots do things?"

"But I'm ever so glad you showed me," she continued, her voice not unkind. "It's so interesting, how you can look at these old ruins, and see the castle that used to be here. Only tell me dear, won't you show us where Weatherby's men built the fire for their dinnertime? It's getting ever so cold, and some of the things Cook sent for luncheon still need cooking."

"Trust Cook." Yuugi smiled at his mother. "I suppose the hamper's so big we'll need two men to carry it too. Donald and I can get it," he offered.

"What say your brother and I go," the Colonel said, his voice a little tight. "You go show your mother where we can build a fire, why don't you, while Donald and I do the heavy lifting." Was it his imagination, Yuugi asked himself, or did Donald look less than pleased about going with his friend? Surely it was his guilty conscience making him see these things, he thought, making him imagine undertones where there was nothing but the pleasant family outing that showed on the surface.

"Thank you, Colonel." He wanted desperately to go with Donald himself - He wished he could follow him and the Colonel out to the cart at least, and hear what they said to each other. - but he had promised his mother a fire, hadn't he? Giving her his arm, Yuugi politely took her over to the half-destroyed remains of the old kitchen, where all that was left, was the huge fireplace ancient servants had cooked at, and just enough adjoining wall to block out some of the cold wind.

Weatherby's men had left a pile of wood here, fallen tree branches, and bits of lumber from the scaffolding. A few bits of dry bark and some matches were all he needed to get a fire going. After that, he and his mother fed it until they had a large bed of flames, making the old kitchen feel quite cozy, with their light and warmth. Returning with the hamper, Donald's and the Colonel's faces brightened at the sight of it. But Yuugi, watching them, couldn't help but wonder what expressions they'd been wearing when they were still out of sight.

"Colonel, Donald, come here!" Mother, who saw them too, waved them over with the same bright, friendly look on her face that she would have worn for any other picnic. Maybe it really was his guilty conscience that was making him see undertones of tension here, Yuugi thought, because his mother sure didn't seem to see them. "Yuugi's been such a help," she told the others as they arrived with the heavy hamper. "He showed me where the wood pile was, and helped me get this fire going." Weatherby and his men had left a rough wooden table here too. "You can put the hamper there," Mother said, "and then you can all be dears and help me to unpack it." She moved forward, the Colonel's coat still buttoned firmly around her, just as if she wasn't ten feet from a roaring fire now, and protected from the wind besides, and started taking goodies out of the hamper.

"Dear Cook, see Donald, she's put in your favorite pie," and, "oh look Colonel, coffee _and_ brandy: How funny, it will be just like dinner at home." Mother was good with the social graces, and perhaps she was trying to erase the tension that hung over their outing, Yuugi thought. And if that was so, it was certainly his duty to help her, even though the knot of discomfort in his stomach made it feel like he'd never eat again. He unloaded plates and cups, cutlery and napkins, and set the table for their luncheon, while his mother finished unpacking the food.

"What a lovely family outing." Once they had everything out, and the food hot and sending up delicious aromas, everyone seemed to relax a little, and Mother's exclamation actually seemed to fit. Yuugi, who had thought he'd never want food again, found himself piling his plate high. And, across the table, he was pleased to see, his brother was doing the same. "It's been so long since we've had a picnic, and they are such jolly fun. We must plan another one," Mother began, then, looking Donald's way, she stopped, apparently remembering that he was leaving again after the New Year. "Maybe you'll invite us to India, Donald dear," she finished instead. "Do you have picnics there?"

"Oh huge ones, all the time," the Colonel answered for Donald, his tone brief, a little abrupt.

"Yes, lots and lots of picnics." From across the table, Donald caught Yuugi's eye. "But of course we have to be careful of all the tigers," he said with a teasing grin.

Yuugi grinned back, loving the shared, inside-joke. "Why not invite the tigers to join you?" he said. "After all, they're just like pussycats. Just bring along plenty of mice to feed them."

"Loads and loads of mice," Donald said.

"Hundreds and hundreds." Yuugi laughed.

"Will you boys stop being silly!" There was a tense edge to Mother's voice. She looked toward the Colonel with a smile, but this time it was obvious she was just being a good hostess. "I suppose there's still ever so many things we haven't looked at yet," she said. "What were you hoping to see this afternoon, Max?"

"I believe I've seen all I want to of the castle." There was an obvious edge to the Colonel's voice as well, Yuugi noted. He was by no means, the genial conversationalist he normally was. "Perhaps we'd better go home after lunch."

"I'm fine with that." Donald looked at Yuugi again, and for a moment they shared a warm gaze. "There are plenty of things I can do at home," he said.

"I think we'd talked about going riding this afternoon," the Colonel said to Donald. "We have to discuss our plans for returning to India."

"Now?" Mother put her hand on the Colonel's arm and looked up at him. "Oh Max, no. It's just the 12th, don't start talking about leaving yet. The boys want to spend time together, I'm sure," she said coaxingly. "And I'd like to spend the afternoon with you. There's still ever so much to talk about."

"And perhaps your husband will be done with his work," the Colonel said, "and he'd like to join us."

"Yes," said Mother, "and wouldn't _that_ add to the fun though!"


	9. Later, the Same Day

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Later on, Pegasus couldn't have said _what_ he'd had to eat at that luncheon.. Moon-calf, it seemed like, as he remembered the calf-like expressions on Yami's and Yuugi's faces. - Even Margaret had seemed more than a little moon-y, turning her big, brown eyes toward him at every opportunity, like Mary's little lamb, waiting to be led to the slaughterhouse. - He was losing his touch, he told himself as they rode back to the Jardine house. Whatever had possessed him actually to _kiss_ her? Was he getting too old for the con game? - Pegasus hadn't missed the googly look that had come into Yuugi's big, violet eyes, every time he'd looked at his "brother". He hadn't missed the way Yami had responded, going all pink and googling back at him, cuddling up with him at the castle, and then doing it again once they were all in the pony cart going home. He wanted to know what they'd been saying to each other, he wanted to know what had happened between them when they'd been alone in that - What was it called? - North Tower room, or whatever Yuugi had said it was. But at the same time, none of that mattered. He knew enough of what was going on, just from the looks that came into their eyes whenever they looked at each other. Which was practically constantly. And the way their hands always brushed, accidentally-on-purpose, if they so much as passed a napkin across the table, was disgusting. What the hell was Yami thinking, to let a flirtation go this far?

And he wasn't letting himself be buttonholed either, was he? "A conversation," and, "we need to talk," and "Donald and I need to discuss our plans for returning to India": Pegasus kept throwing out suggestions, but everyone else in the party seemed determined to shoot them down. "Oh not so soon surely, Colonel," Yuugi protested (calfishly). "It seems like you just got here." While his mother, fluttering her eyelashes unmercifully, told him she thought _he_ was the one who needed to talk, with _her_, "perhaps in the blue drawing room; James never goes there." As if places where her husband _didn't_ go would naturally be the ones that drew him most this afternoon.

Pegasus heaved a sigh. "I think I should like to," - He began the sentence, then cast his mind around desperately, as he tried to think of something he'd plausibly want to do, right after an outing, that would include Yami, but _not_ Yuugi or the increasingly intrusive Margaret. - "I should like to discuss _gifts_, with Donald," he said at last. "You know your son brought a trunk full of gifts for his family," he told Margaret, "but it got lost somehow, and he has nothing for any of you. And I should like to give a few things myself too, it is the least I can do, to show my appreciation for your hospitality. I think a trip to the village, just the two of us, might be in order."

"Oh, Donald, how sweet of you." Margaret threw a quick, fond look over the back of the seat (and Yami and Yuugi jumped apart quickly, Pegasus would have bet on it). "Your presence is gift enough, dear, you should know that." She looked back at Pegasus. "And Max dear, we feel like you're a member of the family already. How funny," she added playfully, "to have a son your age. It makes me feel quite old."

The obligatory response came naturally to him: "Old, not you." - They were pulling up in front of the house now. Every nerve in Pegasus' body screamed, demanding that he grab Yami and make a run for it to someplace private. But he resisted. - "You are young as the flowers of spring. My dear Margaret, if I did not know better, " he lied charmingly, "I would take you for Ya - ahh, _Donald's_ little sister."

"Oh Max!" she cooed, and turned a shade pinker (thus proving, Pegasus thought, that there was no such thing as too big a lie, when flattering an infatuated Countess). "But you mustn't talk that way, you know." As she spoke, Margaret was getting out of the pony cart, assisted by a footman. Pegasus threw a glance over his shoulder; Yami and Yuugi were out already, and moving off toward ...somewhere. He'd have given good money to find out where they were going, and what they were going to do when they got there, but there was a footman standing by to help him out as well. And as soon as he got out of the cart, Margaret was right there again and taking hold of him. "I'm an old married woman." - Would he ever have predicted that there'd come a time when he wouldn't want to flirt with a mark this gullible? Was that even possible? "And I'm very happy with James, Max dear." The lady was like a barnacle; she stuck to his side all the way up the walkway and into the big house, where she let go of him only so she could divest herself of her coat - and his - and her other outside-garments. "You mustn't take my flirting seriously."

_Her_ flirting? Was the woman a complete bonehead? "One can't help hoping," - Pegasus had both her hands pressed between both of his, he was looking down into her eyes with a fond expression; after so many years on the con, it all came naturally, no matter what was going through his mind. - "in the presence of such a lovely woman as yourself."

"Oh Max!" A sigh, a blush; any other time he'd have been delighted at this success, he'd have been climbing over himself to capitalize on it whatever way he could. But right now, Pegasus' priorities were elsewhere.

"I'll be back in India with my regiment next month," he said, "but my heart will be here in Scotland with you." He could still find Yami, he thought; his partner hadn't had time to get far away yet.

"Max!" It was Margaret who was speaking, but there seemed to be two voices. Distracted as he was, Pegasus didn't realize the Earl had come in until he spoke again. "You're back early from your outing," James said, sounding pleased. "I had thought you'd be gone all afternoon."

"Oh James dear, we had meant to be." Margaret pulled her hands away from Pegasus', and turned to face her husband, her face pinker than ever. "It was ever so cold up at the castle, what with half the walls being gone, and you know there's no trees up there for shelter. The wind bombarded us the whole time we were there."

"And have you finished the work you were doing?" she asked. She was hooked onto her own husband's arm now; this was his chance to make an escape, Pegasus thought.

"So-so," replied her husband. "It was getting hard to concentrate. You ladies are sensitive to the cold," - Here he threw a humorous look in Pegasus' direction. - "and have to bundle up to tolerate it, but I notice Max here, wasn't even wearing a coat. I call this weather brisk, isn't that what you'd call it, Max? And a good walk outside in the cool breeze refreshes the body and brightens the brain." Somehow he'd peeled his wife loose, and was moving inexorably toward Pegasus while Pegasus was still scanning the stairs and the doorways, trying to see which direction Yami had gone. "I was just going out for a walk," James said. "Max, perhaps you'd care to join me?"

A walk out in the cold was not Pegasus' idea of fun at the best of times, and having just come in from spending the whole morning with the cold wind blowing him this way and that, and not even with his coat on to protect him, he was quite ready to beg off, whether it made the Earl think less of him or not. "Well James, I don't know," he began. But as soon as he spoke, Margaret was right there beside him, speaking as well.

"James dear, we just got in," she said. "I am very sure Max doesn't want to go right back out. You'd rather have tea in the blue drawing room with me, wouldn't you Max?" she asked, and he could have sworn she batted her lashes at him as she said it.

"On second thought," - Pegasus held back the sigh that wanted to come out with the words. - "James, I think I will go with you," he said. "I could use the chance to stretch my legs after the ride in the pony cart." Then, turning to Margaret, "you understand, don't you?" he added. "I've gotten to spend the entire morning with you, but I haven't spent much time with your husband at all since I've been here."

When you're good, you're good, he told himself, as the Countess turned pink all over again, and released his hands, sighing flutteringly. Only a natural-born conman such as himself could get just the right tone, into what were, after all, some pretty banal words. Either that or the woman was just a total idiot. At any rate, he was free, for all the good that did him, free to spend his afternoon out in the cold wind, discussing Jardine family history with the Earl. Pegasus held back another sigh, as he turned to take the coat the butler was already rushing over with.

"Max, you understand history." A footman was helping James into his coat, and handing him a deerstalker-hat and a pair of heavy gloves. "Perhaps you can help me." The Earl took his guest's arm, unaware (of course) of all that was going through his mind, and led him out the front door and back into the cold. "I've come a cropper in the family history I'm writing," he said. "I can't seem to find the exact right word to describe King James V. What would you say, old man? Does "lubricious" do it? Or "venal"? I was also thinking of "praetorian"."

Pegasus glanced surreptitiously at the hall clock before the door shut behind them: 2:15 PM, and the sun wasn't likely to set for another two and a half hours yet. "Those all sound good," he told the Earl, thinking not of James V, whichever one he was, but of Yami, who must be behind closed doors with his little so-called "brother" by now, and doing god knew what with him.

It wasn't until after 6:00 that he was free again, not until he'd gone on a long walk with the Earl, up and down slippery hillsides, under leafless trees that did nothing to block the cold wind that battered them. - "You don't mind a little walking, an old military man like you?" Well he wouldn't if he _was_ an old military man maybe, Pegasus thought wryly; being just a slothful conman instead, he was more accustomed to strolls along the Paris boulevards, than to forced marches through Indian jungles. "Oh but of course not," he'd lied smoothly in response. "Compared to the time we had to get from Madras to Jaipur," he said, throwing in the first Indian names he could think of, "this is nothing." The Earl bought it of course, unsuspecting and gullible as always (or too wrapped up in thoughts about his precious family history to care). And shortly thereafter, he suggested going back indoors. But he kept hold on Pegasus for a good hour longer after that, chit-chatting with him about ancient Scots and whatnot, and pouring him glasses of excellent whiskey, that his guest was way too frustrated to appreciate.

"Six o'clock," - James stretched lazily, but did not get up out of his deep leather chair as he spoke. - "I suppose we'd best be getting dressed for dinner soon, eh Max? Margaret will be expecting us to be at the table on time. Ladies set such store by these things, don't they?" He laughed a fond laugh. "But I've enjoyed our talk, Max. I don't get enough chances to talk to an educated gentleman such as yourself. Not many scholars in this part of Scotland don't ya know."

"Oh yes, it was a good conversation." Pegasus nodded politely. "Such interesting details you were telling, about, ...About..." - He cast his mind around, trying to remember one of the details that had flown right by him, as he stewed over where his partner might be, and what he might be doing. - "About James the First, wasn't it?"

"James the First _and_ Sixth." James, who had been making movements preparatory to getting up out of his chair and going upstairs, settled back immediately. "Oh yes that's right," he said. "I was telling you about Alexander, the Fifth Earl's connexion with Maitland of Thirlstane, and how he practically ran the government after the King's association with Lennox was ended." There wasn't a word of that, that wasn't like Sanskrit to Pegasus, probably because he hadn't been paying attention the first time James went through it, and he sighed inwardly now, at the thought of going through it all again. He made another mental sigh, as he saw his host pick up the decanter and tip more whiskey into his glass. "A little more, Max?" he said.

"I do wish there was time," Pegasus murmured. "We shall have to do this again. Perhaps we can talk more after dinner when Margaret retires." - And after he'd had a chance to talk to Yami, he thought. He'd sit still for all the family stories the Earl wanted to spin, just let him set things right with his partner first. - "I'm a guest you know," he said tactfully. "I don't want to offend my hostess."

"Certainly, I understand." James, thank God, finally stood, and stretched again before heading toward the door. "You've made quite an impression on my wife," he said, clapping Pegasus on the shoulder. "She's completely smitten, it's lucky I'm not a jealous man." He laughed, and escorted Pegasus - At last! - out into the hallway where he could make his getaway.


	10. The Children's Hour

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Had there ever been such an uncomfortable dinner? Yami knew what role he was supposed to play: He was supposed to be the upstanding older son of the household, sitting here with his mother, his father, his little brother, and his good friend. They were eating some kind of fowl with potatoes, and drinking fancy wine. Maybe an outsider would have said he was doing a pretty good job of it too, but he knew he wasn't. A real brother wouldn't have just sat there staring across the table at his younger brother, the way he was doing tonight. A real younger brother, for that matter, wouldn't have stared back, with the smitten (but a little bit terrified) look Yuugi was wearing. - For that matter, a real friend, which is what Pegasus was supposed to be, wouldn't have been looking daggers at both of them the way he was doing, would he? Yami, wasn't dumb; he knew his partner in crime had been itching to get him aside and talk to him all afternoon. He knew what he wanted to say, too, and after all the older man had done for him, he felt like a naughty schoolboy, avoiding him, and ignoring his instructions this way. But this was one schoolboy who was going to play truant a while longer. An afternoon with Yuugi didn't even begin to be long enough, and they still had a whole night together ahead of them. He was going to enjoy tonight, Yami told himself, let the consequences be what they would. And afterward, well afterward was soon enough to start worrying about the future.

Across the table, Yuugi just picked at his food. His fork stabbed at the slice of meat and the potatoes on his plate, but not very much went to his mouth. "You're tired dear," his mother worried a little bit. "Did you over-exert yourself at the castle?" But she didn't give him too much attention; her focus seemed to be more on Pegasus. Likewise, the Earl seemed very interested in Yami's hapless partner in crime tonight, and he kept badgering at him with a lot of arcane Scottish history details, and talking about "after the ladies are excused," and how it would be just them then, and they could have "a good, long talk." Preoccupied as he was, Yami couldn't help laughing a little to himself, at the thought of poor Pegasus, helpless and cornered by both Jardine parents, after Yuugi and "Donald" left the table.

And finally the interminable meal was over, and they did leave the table. Just as quickly, Pegasus bobbed up, putting out his hand with a look toward Yami. "If I might have a word," he said, but the Earl interrupted.

"Let them go," he said. "We don't want our time together turning into the children's hour anyhow." - Yami didn't have to look back at his partner, to know what kind of obscenities Pegasus was mouthing under his breath as his last chance to talk slipped away. He didn't care anyway, all his attention was on Yuugi.

"We're going upstairs for a while, Mother," - Yuugi could barely keep his own gaze from Yami's, but fortunately, the Countess seemed oblivious. "I ...ah, want Donald's help with my Geometry assignment." He immediately colored crimson-red, making the lie painfully obvious, but no one reacted; really, Yami thought, it was a good thing for them, that all the adults in the family seemed to be so busy flirting with Pegasus.

"Yes," he said, his conman's skill serving him in love, as it always had in money. "I'm going to see how much I can remember from my own schooldays." Then he all but scooted his "little brother" up to Donald's room in a hurry. Even Yami's stomach was starting to twist a little now. Was this really going to happen? Was he going to... be more to Yuugi than just his brother? - His so-called brother? - Donald was dead, and he'd taken his place, but this wasn't taking a brother's place he was doing tonight, this was something else. And same-sex coupling wasn't looked upon kindly in Britain; what was he leading his innocent little "brother" into?

"Yuugi," - Barely inside the room, Yami shut the door behind them, and turned to his "brother". He touched Yuugi's shoulders gently, like you would a treasure, and stared into his violet eyes. "I can't begin to say what this time with you means to me." His voice was soft, and he felt tears starting as he spoke. "I never thought," he said, "I never thought I'd meet anyone like you. And now that I have, I'm going to do all in my power to see we're never parted again." He bent, pressing his lips to Yuugi's, cutting off (he was sure) a lot of protestations about how they'd been brothers since they'd been born, and would continue to be brothers the rest of their lives.

He felt Yuugi's sharp intake of breath, felt him start to pull away right before their lips met. What he was doing to him was wrong, wrong. - No, it was the lie that had been wrong. If he'd come to Yuugi in his own identity, he'd have had a chance to win him, he'd have been doing this right. Now the beauty of their first night together was always going to be tainted. Yami felt the tension in his "brother's" body; he knew the mental struggle it represented. And then he felt Yuugi's body relax in his arms. Their lips met, and it wasn't just him kissing Yuugi, it was Yuugi leaning up to kiss him as well.

There was no room or time to talk, no room to think even. It was just their bodies pressed together finally, both of them clinging to each other like they would never let go. Yami ran his tongue along Yuugi's lower lip, gently coaxing his mouth open, then he caught his breath, moaning a little as their kiss deepened. If only it could always be like this. If only this was all there was, just the two of them meeting, and recognizing their attraction for each other, and surrendering to it, with no lies, and no rules about what men were and were not supposed to do with each other. He'd always ignored those rules before, and been content to share Pegasus' comfortable life outside the law. But those rules could hurt Yuugi. - What kind of risk was he putting him in just by sharing this night with him?

"Donald." Yuugi's soft whisper brushed his face like a caress. There was that too, wasn't there? There was his lie that he was Yuugi's dead brother. By god, Yami told himself, he was going to find a way to tell him the truth, consequences be damned. …But not tonight.

"Shh," he whispered. "No names. Let's just be happy together, no matter what happens tomorrow."

"No names." Yuugi looked up at him, and the love in his eyes was so strong, Yami felt weak in the knees.. "It's just you and me, just two souls. - Oh, I want this, Don... I mean, my love."

_My love_. Had there ever been more beautiful words? Gently, Yami led Yuugi across the room, to sit down on his bed. The gaslight wasn't lit; the only light in the room came from the fireplace, and the warm flicker of it turned Yuugi's hair to gold, leaving his face in shadow. My love," Yami told him, "my beautiful, innocent, trusting little Yuugi." Tears wanted to come into his eyes as he looked down at those violet eyes, and that loving smile. "You know what you're risking if we're caught, don't you?"

"Yes." Yuugi's voice was soft, but it was firm. "I know, my love. And I'm not afraid." It was too much. No one had ever given Yami a gift like this. He fought back a sob and pressed Yuugi tighter than ever. For a moment, all he wanted to do was bask in the closeness of him, to breathe in his scent, and feel his hair brushing against his own face.

They didn't need more light. They were finding their way around each other by touch, hands stroking each other's hair, neck, ears, shoulders. Looking down, Yami saw that Yuugi's eyes were closed, an expression of rapture and perfect trust on his face that twisted his heart. "My love," he murmured between kisses, his thumb stroking Yuugi's swollen lips. "As long as I live, I will love and protect you. No harm will ever befall you," forgetting the lie he had been living and telling all this time, in his passion of tenderness. "I will stand by your side for the rest of my life."

"Don..." Yuugi caught himself easily, the word half-said, and smiled up at him. "My love, I want you to be with me for the rest of my life."

He pulled away, and for a moment Yami thought he'd done something wrong, or given himself away somehow. But Yuugi's smile was still just as warm as before, the only change was that now it was a little bit playful. "Undress for me, will you my love?" Were they so comfortable that he was making demands now? _This is how I am with Pegasus._It flashed through Yami's mind, but he pushed the thought away. This wasn't the demand of a spoiled, petted plaything, but the same kind of affectionate teasing he and Yuugi had shared ever since he'd gotten here. He looked at him, and Yuugi smiled back. "I want a chance to admire you properly," he said. "You undressed so quickly the other night. And besides, you're really mine now. Do it for me, will you?"

"For you, anything." If there was discomfort, Yami ignored it. He undid the buttons on his own dress jacket, removing it and tossing it aside, and then, very quickly, doing the same thing with his shirt. Yuugi looked curiously at the light undershirt he wore underneath.

"No long underwear?" He giggled. "No wonder you're always cold."

Yami could have spun some lie about it's being too warm all the time in India for him to need the kind of heavy woolen undergarments everyone wore here, but he didn't. There were going to be no more lies between him and Yuugi. "You like it?" he said instead. "See, it's custom-tailored." Too late, he remembered that it was also monogrammed, as he sat down to let Yuugi stroke the fine cotton undershirt. He stood again, much more quickly. "I'm sure you'd rather see what's under it," he said.

"I feel like one of the girls in the Folies Bergeres," he said, mentioning the naughty nightclub he and Pegasus used to visit when they were in Paris. - He'd always headed straight to the back room and the card games waiting there, but his partner used to linger sometimes and watch the shows. "None of those girls can hold a candle to you," he used to say, the usual silver-tongued Pegasus. - Yami unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Now the pants." – Yuugi's voice brought him back to the present. "I want to see everything." He colored a little. "I've never really had a chance to look at another man naked before."

He hadn't seen any other men naked, because most Englishmen were prudes, Yami thought, as he undid the buttons on his dress trousers. He'd never felt uncomfortable undressing himself; maybe that was his Middle-Eastern heritage coming out, or maybe it came from the time he'd spent living in Paris, where people were freer about nudity and their bodies. All he felt, as he dropped the trousers and stepped out of them, was pleasure at being able to give Yuugi what he wanted.

"You're beautiful," Yuugi whispered.

"Am I?" All those times Pegasus had called him "beautiful" - Pretty much every time they'd been together, he'd called him that; his partner was a flatterer in his private life, not just when he was on the con, Yami thought. - and it hadn't carried the weight of Yuugi's soft, whispered words. Maybe that was because of the pure, innocent admiration that shone out of Yuugi's violet eyes as he said it. "I want to be beautiful for you, my love," Yami said. He shivered a little, the room starting to get cold, as the room died down, but he remained standing, like a servant, waiting patiently, letting Yuugi look at him for as long as he wanted.

"You are beautiful," Yuugi repeated, and he stopped there. Yami, watching him, noticed as his eyes stopped traveling up and down his body, and focused, staring at just one particular place. "I... Are all men so big?" he asked, sounding a little nervous.

"You can touch me, you know." Yami's voice was nothing but a whisper. "I want to feel your touch."

"I don't know. I've never touched _that_...one of those..." Yuugi was still mostly dressed; no one would be shocked to see him run down the corridor and back to his room like that. And for a moment, it looked like that was just what he wanted to do. Then Yami saw him swallow. He saw his eyes move, as if by an act of determination, from his erect penis, back up to meet his eyes. "Be gentle with me, Don ...ah, my love," he said. "I never did this ...anything like this before. I don't even know what two men do together."

Yami felt a rush of tenderness and affection. He'd always been like a pet, with Pegasus, definitely the younger and more innocent of the two of them. He'd been a flirt and a plaything to the jaded sophisticates he and his partner had scammed over the years. What he'd never done before though, was to be _first_with someone. He'd never taught anyone about love. "They don't do anything more than you want to do, Yuugi." He dropped onto the bed and took him in his arms. At first Yuugi pulled back a little, with a nervousness that hadn't been there before. Yami took his time, stroking his hair, brushing kisses and murmuring little endearments in his ears, until he felt him relax.

"I'm sorry." Yuugi's cheek rested against his chest, and his voice was so soft that Yami could hardly hear him. "I said I would be with you tonight." He looked up at him. "This isn't what you meant, is it?"

"There aren't any rules." As if he knew anything about that, Yami thought, when he'd spent his entire life breaking the rules, or ignoring them whenever it was convenient for him. He stroked Yuugi's spiky, reddish blond hair away from his face and looked down at him, both their faces shadowed as the fire died down. "I don't want to be with some expert lover." -

"I'll bet you've been with a lot of them." Yuugi forced a laugh. "When you were in India..."

Oh, he'd been with a lot of them all right. And a more sophisticated young man might have figured out that the first on his list of past lovers was probably the so-called "good friend" he'd brought with him on his visit. But Yuugi was pure innocence, and he pictured the squads of his "brother's" past lovers sort of the way he did the huge tigers in India, that were like giant pussycats. How could he claim this boy for his own without destroying that innocence, Yami wondered? How, when he was who he was, a liar, and a cheat, here on false pretenses?

"I've never been with anyone like you," he told Yuugi, his voice warm. "I'm not going to make you do anything. It's enough that you wanted to be with me tonight." It wasn't, of course. Now that they were together, he craved the other's touch. He wanted Yuugi to trust him enough to touch him all over ...and his erection throbbed for the attention it was used to getting, the attention Pegasus would have already been giving it. "You should take off your trousers at least though," he said. "They're going to get wrinkled. And after that, if you want to keep on those long underwear you were talking about." His own laugh was the last vestige of Yami-the-conman, faked, when what he wanted was to yell, _Touch me, Yuugi, let me feel your naked skin against mine!_

"All right." Standing up, Yuugi removed the trousers, showing a pair of Jaeger's thickest woolen combinations just long enough for Yami to get a good look. Then, to his "brother's" surprise, he removed those as well, and jumped back in bed too fast for him to get a look at the bare pink skin underneath. "I know you're not going to hurt me," he said. "I trust you, my love."

"You're not going to regret it." Yami felt himself near tears again, at Yuugi's trust. He hugged him close, keeping his hands firmly above the waist to justify the trust he'd been given, and kissed him again.

Their bodies side by side, Yuugi looked up at his "brother". "What do we do now?" he asked.

"Just relax." Yami the older man's plaything was getting a good initiation into how to lead tonight. "I'll kiss you." - He suited action to words. - "I'll touch you." - His hand ran along Yuugi's chest, one finger just circling a sensitive nipple. - "If I do anything you don't like, tell me and I'll stop, I promise."

"Not yet. You - Ohh!" Yuugi caught his breath at the feel of Yami's teasing finger. "Oh, that feels _good_!"

A cynic would have said it was slow going. - Of course a cynic would have been off and away by now, pursuing other, easier conquests. Who wanted to coax a response out of an awkward, nervous virgin, when there were other partners to be had, partners who knew the score, and knew how to give pleasure as well as receive it? But every time a touch of his pleased Yuugi, and he gasped his pleasure, the sound caught at Yami's heart. It sent a rush of answering pleasure flooding through him, that was better than anything he'd ever felt with the sophisticated worldlings he'd been with before. Slowly his hands moved downward, touching sensitive skin, as he listened to Yuugi's breathing, becoming more and more erratic. He expected to be stopped any moment now, but Yuugi allowed him to continue, his eyes closed as passion grew, his chest heaving, and his body shivering from pleasure. To Yami's relief, there was no 'Donald' coming from Yuugi's lips, just soft "my love", over and over again.

He added his lips as his hands moved lower and lower, taking great pleasure in drawing ever louder and more delighted gasps from Yuugi. Kissing his skin, Yami kept touching, kept stroking, until he finally found the place that made Yuugi cry out loud. He made sure the experience was as amazing and wonderful as possible for the other, and he enjoyed hearing his cries, enjoyed his reactions, and when Yuugi finally lay back, painting and satisfied, he immediately took him in his arms.

"Is this... what men do together?" Yuugi asked, his voice as soft and low as a whisper, as he move to return the embrace, his arms sliding over Yami's skin.

"This is what men can do when they're together," Yami said, keeping his voice low as  
>well, brushing feather-light kisses on Yuugi's brow. "There's a lot more what they can do. I'll show you more another time."<p>

"But you..." Leave it to Yuugi to still blush like a virgin; Yami could feel the heat on his cheeks.

"Shhh... " His own erection still throbbed against his leg, begging for attention, but in some deep way, Yami felt more felt satisfied than he ever had before with anyone. Yuugi's pleasure had been all the satisfaction he craved. The physical pleasure they'd shared had brought him and Yuugi closer. "Don't worry about it." He pressed a kiss into the sweaty hair that stuck to Yuugi's  
>forehead.<p>

"I want us to have lots of other times together." Yuugi murmured, his voice a little drowsy. "And I want you to feel the same way you just made me feel."

"I know, and I want it too." Another kiss, and Yami pulled the blankets closer around them, enveloping their bodies. "Now rest, my love." He didn't need to say more; after that Yuugi feel asleep, safely tucked in his arms. As for Yami though, he lay awake. He knew what he had to do, what honor demanded that he do, but it wasn't going to be easy for him to do it.


	11. The Library, Castle Kirkconnell

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Sunday, Yami was barely around. He and his new pet floated in and out of the common areas at odd moments, leaving sparkles of pixie dust in their wake. They trundled down the hallways together, so close that the spikes of their hair should have tangled, and headed for who knew where, to do who knew what damage to Pegasus' carefully thought out plans. It was like his partner had decided to commit public suicide, Pegasus thought. It was like he'd willfully chosen to take the best opportunity for profit he was ever going to be given, and toss it in the waste bin, like a boy throwing away a half-eaten bun.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" He'd about given up hope of ever getting Yami alone, when he finally managed to catch him, Yuugiless for once, passing by the library. Pegasus wasted no time on elegance, but hustled his partner into the empty room and shut the door after them. "Have you gone mad?"

Yami looked at him, with a half smile on his lips that Yuugi had put there, still on his lips. With effort, he blinked the dream-clouds from his eyes and met Pegasus' gaze. "I could say the same of you, _Colonel Crawford_," he said. "Aren't you the one who's always talking about there being servants everywhere, who can overhear?"

"Dammit, Yami. Are you... Have you…" Pegasus took a deep breath. He forced himself to calm down. "I've been in love," he said finally. "I know what it feels like."

"In love!"

"Oh, wasn't I supposed to notice? Do you think anyone could have failed to notice how you've been mooning after little Yuugi ever since we got here? – And the way you took him upstairs last night: Like a groom leading his bride to the wedding chamber!"

He'd let go of Yami to pace. – Yes, his composure was really that far gone. "It's the carelessness of it that's unforgivable, he said, "the sheer, blatant stupidity of behaving like that with a mark. That boy's supposed to be your brother! It's a good thing the parents are both so selfish. Papa can't see beyond his magnum opus about Scotland The Brave, or whatever it is, and Mama thinks she and I are deep in the best flirtation ever. – As if there's a Scotswoman living, who knows anything about flirtation."

He stopped pacing and turned. "You've put this job at risk. And for what, for love?" The word came out like it was poison.

Yami had always been brave, never afraid to tell the truth directly. He nodded now, meeting Pegasus' eyes without shame. "Is that so terrible?"

He turned away, crossing the room to stand by the window, staring toward, but not seeing, the bare landscape outside. "I love Yuugi." His voice was softer now.

"Incest is a crime," Pegasus said, "and fraud is as well, if your true identity is found out."

There was a long moment of silence before Yami spoke again. "It's worse than you think, Pegasus," he said finally. "I …I'm going to tell Yuugi who I really am."

No! Pegasus drew in his breath, speechless for a moment, and too shocked to feel anger, or fear, or anything but surprise.

"My talented Yami?" The words came out floundering, disjointed. "The boy who charmed Otogi-san out of all that prize money the Emperor had given him? …The one who's been kissed by all the most famous beauties of Europe, male or female, and emerged unscathed? And this clumsy little stick …this moon-calf… Yami, why?"

"You've been in love." Yami looked at him. "How can you not understand?" Pictures flooded through Pegasus' mind: Mademoiselle Cecille, and the spring they'd spent together, when a long dry-spell had forced him to work legitimately, as her tutor. He remembered how the sun had caught sparkles in her blonde hair, the tender way she used to look at him when they were supposed to be reading history together. He'd still be there with her, he thought, if she hadn't… But he pulled his mind back to reality, to the present.

"Fine," he said. "You've made your point. Love is blind, and all that poetic rot. Your blue-eyed boy means the world to you, for now at least. I'm not going to be able to talk rationally to you about him. Let's talk about our partnership then, instead."

"We came to do a job," he said. "I've covered for you up until now, keeping Yuugi's parents distracted, but I'm not going to be able to do it forever. We have to get the Emerald and get out of here, before the Jardines twig to the fact that you're not their son, which is going to happen pretty quickly, if you keep pulling Yuugi to the side and buggering him the way you've been doing."

"I haven't!" Yami's face flamed, his eyes darkened to magenta.

"Spare me the technical defenses," Pegasus said. "Weren't you supposed to get the Emerald at tea on Saturday? I suppose that idea went by the board, everyone was so distracted. Have you an idea when the Earl is going to give it to you?"

"It's to be my Christmas present," Yami said, his voice mechanical. "Fa …ah, the Earl, wants my portrait finished before he gives it to me."

Pegasus nodded, allowing himself to feel some satisfaction, until Yami added, "but you're not taking it, Pegasus. I can't let you."

He was silent, at a loss for words. "I …I'll give you everything I've got," Yami said, "my money, all my belongings." – All the things he'd given him, in other words. But it hadn't been like that; up until now they'd been friends as well as partners. – "You must see that I can't let you hurt Yuugi's parents." He turned an appealing look Pegasus' way.

"What I see," Pegasus said dryly, :"is that being revealed as a liar and a cheat – And a sodomite, which also carries a criminal penalty by the way. – is going to be bad enough, without the Emerald being gone as well. I'm supposed to bow out of this and leave with nothing more than I came with, while you make your Grand Revelation. This whole family is mad, and you seem to have caught their madness, if you really think the Jardines are going to welcome you with open arms, instead of packing you off to the nearest gaol as soon as they find out the truth." He snorted. "I see no reason to."

But he did. And his heart went out to Yami, who was so young, too young to realize the suicidal stupidity of his decision. Had he ever been that young, that blind himself? "After Christmas," he said. "I'll leave, and you can tell whatever you feel you have to." Yami nodded.

"Your savings will pay my hotel bill for the rest of the winter," Pegasus said. He gave a short laugh, at himself, for being stupid enough to capitulate to Yami's mooncalfery. "I'll send you a postcard from Paris. It will brighten your cell at whatever gaol they send you to."

Yami looked at him, an expression of false bravado on his face. "I'll send you a photograph of Yuugi and me together," he said. "I trust him. He won't turn me in." He turned and left the room, returning to his boyfriend probably. After a long while, Pegasus left too.


	12. Yuugi Makes a Confession

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yuugi was looking forward to nightfall on Sunday, after what had happened the night before. There were no plans for what would happen tonight, but there didn't need to be. He and Donald both knew. Dinner ended, and when Mother rose to go into the drawing room, they stood as well, and went upstairs together, leaving Father and Colonel Crawford in the dining room.

"That's more family history for the Colonel." Yuugi barely waited until they were on the stairs, before his arms went around his brother's waist. He looked up at him, feeling the happiness bubble inside, so strong that he had to laugh. "Father does love having an audience."

As always, Donald pulled him close, his hands tangling in Yuugi's hair. "Father had better get in as many stories as possible," he said. "The New Year's not far away, and I know the Colonel is due back to his regiment."

"But you're not leaving, right?" Donald had promised it plenty of times since Saturday, but Yuugi felt like he couldn't hear it often enough. "You're home for good now?"

Donald's arms tightened. "I'll never leave you," he murmured. His voice roughened. "Yuugi…"

"What is it?"

"Not here," he said. "Let's talk upstairs."

Instead of going to his own room, tonight Donald took him to the very top of the house, to the nursery where Yuugi had slept his entire life. The nursery rhyme prints had given way long ago, to pictures of knights slaying dragons and Maxfield Parrish prints, of fantastic sunsets in lands that never existed in this world, but his old rocking horse still sat in the same corner it always had, and the bed was still covered with the same quilt with the picture of Wynken, Blinken and Nod, with their nets full of stars. Donald drew him down onto that bed now, cuddling him close, almost cradling him in his arms.

"Yuugi…" He stroked his hair, his hands gentle. "You know I love you, don't you?"

_Did _he know it? How could his brother even ask? "Of course I know it." Yuugi felt nothing but confidence, as he looked up. But Donald's eyes were filmed with tears, and his expression was pained. "I know you love me," he said again, his voice softer this time. "And I love you too. I love you so much!"

"And there's nothing that could change that, is there? What if you found out …- I don't know. - …What something came out that made me look bad, if you found out I wasn't completely honorable or honest?"

"But no one's completely…" Yuugi thought about it. What did his brother mean? "I'm not a fool," he said at last. What we have together isn't honorable, not in the eyes of the world. And we're not honest, neither of us, not as long as we keep it a secret."

"I don't care," he added. He pillowed his head against Donald's chest and willed him to stroke his hair with the same gentle touch he always used. It always made his stomach crawl, when he thought about how he and Donald were lying to their parents. He didn't mind about the rest of the world. Let them judge how they pleased. Their opinions didn't matter. But Mother and Father loved him; he hated having to keep the most important part of his life secret from them.

For a long time there was silence in the room. Donald held him close, but he didn't stroke his hair, he didn't kiss him or make any effort to cuddle as they usually did. "I know," he said at last. "And I'm grateful, more grateful than I can say. But what if …What if that wasn't what I meant? What if there was more than that?"

Wordlessly, Yuugi looked up at him. Their eyes met, his violet gaze meeting the darker, deep-reddish one of his brother's, that exotic color that always fascinated him, so unlike the color of anyone else's eyes in the family. After a long moment, Donald turned away. "God help me," he said. "I can't say it. - I owe it to you, Yuugi, but I can't. I promised. I'm sorry."

"Shhh." For once, Yuugi thought, he was the one in control, the one taking the leadership. He kissed his brother - His love, the man he'd chosen to spend the rest of his life with. "No matter what happens, and no matter what you do, my love. I'll always love you," he said, "and I'll always forgive you."

* * *

><p>At the front of the classroom, Mr. Minchin was droning on about rhetoric. He had a speech by Demosthenes on the blackboard, and he kept underlining some bits, and circling others, making whatever point he was trying to make. He loved the speech apparently, because it was all he looked at, not turning to glance back at the classroom at all, and not even noticing as his cuffs kept brushing across the board and turning whiter and whiter with chalk dust as he wrote left-handed. He completely missed it, when Yuugi passed the folded note across the aisle to Téa (he probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd jumped up and turned handsprings in the aisle as well): "Téa, I need to talk to you."<p>

"What is it?" the girl mouthed back.

"I have to…" Yuugi gestured, took back the bit of notepaper, and wrote "Where can we meet and talk at lunch time?" before passing it back.

"Signor Signorelli's music room. No one goes there." Téaheld the note up for Yuugi to see. "I'll tell Tristan and Joey to stay away," she mouthed, then looked at the boys, who were already goggling at them, trying to find out what was going on. "None of your business," she added, with a murderous glare.

The music room was really more of a cloak closet, a small, stuffy enclosed space, squeezed in behind the inadequate stage that served Drumfries School for pageants and presentations, and the storage room where the janitor kept his supplies. A private school would have provided something more spacious. – But then a private school would have provided regular music lessons for all the students, whereas the best Drumfries School could offer was singing class once a month, alternating with French and drawing lessons, and instrumental lessons only for the students who showed the most promise. The little room was crowded, music stands verging right up to the table at the front, and that piled so high with dusty sheet music that just the breeze from the door sent pages blowing everywhere, but it was quiet, as Téa had said. And it was private, whatever she'd done to Tristan and Joey to make it so.

Téa opened her satchel and took out the oiled paper packet that held her lunch sandwich. "Whatever's bothering you, Yuugi," she said, "it shows all over. Your face is all rumpled-up, and I've never seen you so distracted. Not even the day your brother" – Her lips tightened as she mentioned Donald. – "arrived home. What's wrong?"

Yuugi sat on a corner of the table-ful of sheet music, sitting above Téa, who was in Signor Signorelli's big chair. This wasn't going to work, he thought. It had been a mistake even to try it. Téa didn't like Donald already. How could he explain …what he had to explain to her? – It would only make her hate him more. He'd come in here to talk about his own problem, but talking to Téa about Donald was only going to cause more problems. He stared down at his sandwich instead. He'd taken it out when his friend took out hers, but instead of eating it, apparently he'd just been twisting it nervously in his hands. Cook would have been horrified, if she'd seen the crumbs of her good bread and meat that littered the floor all around him. – So would Signor Signorelli have been.

"Why don't you like Donald?" he asked at last. "He's never been anything but nice to you."

"I don't dislike him!" Téa bounced up right away. "He's your brother, Yuugi..." She stopped, then swallowed. She looked away for a moment, then finally started talking again. "Don't you think it's a little queer," she said, "that you didn't hear anything from him for five years, and then all of a sudden he turned up without even sending a letter saying he was coming?"

"No I don't!" The angry tone of his own response surprised Yuugi, but it felt right. It felt like a relief to be angry and frustrated for a change. "Lots of people work in the colonies," he said. "And they're gone for a long time like Donald was. And sometimes their letters get lost like his did. You act like he's responsible for every ship that goes down, and every courier that gets lost in the jungle."

"It's not that." Téa spoke gently. "And it's not that I don't like Donald," she said, "so don't accuse me, Yuugi. I know, he's important to you. And you've been so happy since he got here. It's just…" She faltered as if looking for the words she wanted to say. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "I've been doing all the talking since we came in here, and you wanted to tell me something."

"Well, it's about Donald." Yuugi's voice was sulky. "You won't want to hear it. Or you'll start blaming him again right away." It wasn't like him to treat Téa this way, but for some reason he couldn't hold onto his usual sunny manner today. It was like he'd had to be nice too much lately, and to swallow too many things that bothered him. And all of a sudden it was all bursting out. He swallowed. The fact was, that sunny or sulky, this was just hard to say. Finally, though, he got it out. …Sort of. "Have you ever been in love with someone, Téa?"

" I mean _in love_-in love," he added right away. "Not like Tristan, with a new girlfriend every week, not like" -

"Not like you and me, when we went to the dance in the village together, just so we'd have someone to dance with." Téa's voice was dry. "I know what 'in love' means, Yuugi. And no, I've never…" Her voice broke off suddenly. Then she turned a look of shock at him. "Oh no …Yuugi!"

"No," she said. "You can't mean… Tell me you don't…"

He swallowed, nerving himself to speak the truth. He owed it to Donald. "I ...I kind of do," he said softly.

"But it's a sin." Yuugi heard the shock in his friend's voice. "It's in the Bible. – Yuugi, it's against the law. What if someone finds out?"

"You don't understand." Now that he'd told her, Yuugi rushed to explain his words. He didn't want Téa thinking ...what she was probably thinking. "He loves me too. We're happy, Téa."

"But you can go to jail, Yuugi. And for what, for loving your br…" Her voice died away, and she just stared at him, her blue eyes getting wider and wider. "You have to be brothers," she said at last, her voice low, as if she was talking to herself more than to Yuugi. "You look just like him …and you don't look like just anyone, Yuugi. So that means you're in love with your …He's making love to… Oh my god," she cried, "I never did trust Donald!"

"I have to tell your parents about this." She turned a steely look at Yuugi. "They'll send him packing. – I'm sorry, Yuugi. I know you think you love him, but you can't. He's your brother."

But she'd always said she didn't think he was…

"Oh Yuugi, this is the worst thing that could have happened. You have to tell your parents about it." – She looked at him. – "Or I'll tell them for you. You can't stay with him if he's doing that to you."

"I'm not telling." Yuugi looked right back at her. "And you're not telling either," he said. "What's the worst that's happening here? I'm in love with my b- brother…" He felt tears flooding his eyes, and his voice grew thick. "It's against God, and it's against nature, and it's …against the law. I still love him, Téa. And you're still my friend, aren't you?"

Téa looked at him. At first it was the stubborn face he'd seen her use since Infant School, when she didn't want to do something, but then it softened. Then he saw tears in her eyes too. "I'm still your friend." Her voice was very soft. "I'll always be your friend, Yuugi."

"Then you can't tell," Yuugi told her. "You can't. – Promise me, Téa." He took her hands in both his. "This is my secret," he said. "You tell, and I …I don't know what I'll do…" Would he really give up her friendship for Donald? Could he? – Was it possible to stop liking someone just like that?

Téa tried for her stubborn face again, but the tears were already rolling down her cheeks. "I don't like this," she said. "I'm hurting you if I don't tell, Yuugi."

"You'd better not tell." Had he ever thought things could come to this? Had he ever pictured a time when he'd be using bully-tactics on his best friend? Yuugi glared at her. Unlike the bullies who had picked on him from time to time over the years, he didn't have muscles, or even a mean attitude, to enforce his threats. All he had was his friendship, for what that was worth. "I don't know what I'll do if you do, Téa. I'll tell about your… About the time when you…"

"You don't have anything and you know it." Téa gave him one angry glare, then she looked away. She pulled her hands out of Yuugi's, then busied herself putting her sandwich back in its wrappings, and the wrapped package back into her satchel. "I won't tell," she mumbled, her voice very low.

She stood, walking toward the door on tottery feet. Then, hand on the knob, she turned back. "My Uncle Angus is the constable," she said. "If you do get arrested, he'll …I'll ask him to let you escape." Tears flooded her eyes again, and she added in a choked voice, "oh Yuugi, you're going to be a f-fugitive from justice, and it's all Donald's fault!"


	13. The Death Certificate

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

All week long, those words echoed in Yuugi's head. Not the ones about him being a fugitive, - That was just Téa being overprotective; his parents would never have him arrested, no matter what they found out about him, Yuugi was sure of it. – but the ones about how wrong it was to love Donald, and, more and more, about his brother maybe not being who he pretended to be. It would explain a lot. It would explain why his skin was golden-colored all over; didn't tans fade when you were out of the sun? It would explain how his manner had changed since he came back; Donald had never been affectionate when he used to come home on holiday. …It would explain his own feelings, because a man couldn't love his brother the way he loved Donald, could he?

Maybe it was the other words that were echoing, the ones about the wrongness of their love. Because when he let himself think about Donald's not being his brother, Yuugi felt a little whisper of hope at the back of his mind, as if some burden might be lifted. And if he could think about there being an imposter in his family, there for his own lying, cheating purposes, and feel anything but outrage and anger, that was the wrongest part of the whole situation, wasn't it?

Everyone at home did nothing at all but try to make him feel better. Cook made all his favorite dishes for tea, day after day, but the cream buns and fairy cakes were just there, just something to feed him when he was hungry, and half the time they went back downstairs un-tasted. Mother petted and worried over him (when she wasn't busy talking to Colonel Crawford) and took his temperature more times than Yuugi could count. And Donald was right there, all the time, with sweet words and tender touches that somehow just made Yuugi feel worse than ever.

Outside, the weather was being its usual December self. Cold days alternated with warmer days, fog alternated with rain. Yuugi didn't care. The grey skies matched the greyness of his mood. And the clouds? Well, if he was going to be honest, they matched with his temper, which he was finding hard to control these days, and snapping, not just at people like Donald who were (or might be?) responsible, but at his school-friends, and even the servants at home, who had done nothing to deserve it, as well.

And then Thursday afternoon the blow fell. A rainy morning had faded into another grey, overcast afternoon. Donald had offered as usual, but Yuugi had refused to let him drive him to school, so when he came out at 4:00, it was Henry at the reins waiting for him. They made their usual stop at the post office; Yuugi went in and got the mail.

One letter grabbed his attention, its torn, ragged condition and foreign stamps warning him that there was something important about it. Yuugi swallowed. He checked, and the return address said East India Company. Were they cutting short Donald's vacation time? He didn't bother looking further. He didn't look at the date stamp, or check who the letter was addressed to. All he was thinking about was how this was going to be the time when he found out if Donald meant what he promised: Was he going to obey the summons and go back, or sever his ties with the company he'd worked for these past seven years and stay here with Yuugi? Eagerly, he opened the envelope. He unfolded the papers inside. And then he let out a little choking gasp as he read the first words of the letter:

"It is with deepest regrets that we inform Your Lordship…" His hands shaking, Yuugi turned to the other page. He looked at the embossed seal of an official colonial death certificate. And, unbelieving, he read the date, a date almost two years' past.

"I…" His hands were shaking so much he almost lost the letter. There was a breeze blowing, and it fluttered, trying to get out of his hands.

"Is there something wrong, Master Yuugi?" Henry turned a concerned face toward him to see Yuugi re-folding the letter.

"No." The lie came without him even having to think. This was big; it was huge. Téa had been right all along; Donald was lying to him. But somehow Yuugi couldn't bring himself to reveal the secret to Henry. Maybe a groom just didn't seem like the right person to be first in finding out that the Jardine family had been harboring an imposter, or maybe… Yuugi didn't like to think about what else it was that might be staying his tongue.

They made the rest of the trip in silence, the sound of the wind, and the slow clop-clop of the horse's hooves a quiet backdrop for Yuugi's not-so-quiet thoughts. Returning home, he dismounted at the door as he always did, his legs stiff and his mind in a whirl.

Donald was at the door waiting for him, as he'd been every day of the week, ever since Yuugi had refused to ride with him any more on Tuesday. His look was just as warm as always, and his voice just as fond. "Yuugi."

"Who are you?" Dimly, Yuugi heard Henry pulling away from the doorstep, heading toward the stables to put the horse and cart away. Dimly, he felt the letter, still clutched in his right hand. He was shaking it, maybe that was what drew Donald's eyes, or maybe it was just his guilty conscience.

"Not here," Donald said.

"Why?"

"If you love me," Donald said, "please Yuugi, not here." He took his hand, - And God help him, Yuugi let him. – and led him around the house, to Mother's Shakespeare garden, now bare and dead for the winter. He sat on one of the cold benches, pulling at Yuugi's hand to bring him down beside him.

But Yuugi balked. "Look at this letter!" He'd thought he would shout it, but now saying it, his voice was low, only a little shrillness showing. ""Read it, Donald," he said.. "READ IT!" He threw the paper.

Donald took it. "I don't have to," he said softly. He looked down at the paper in his hand, not meeting Yuugi's eye. "I know what it says."

"You're…" He'd thought he would be throwing his new knowledge in the other's face. He'd expected anger, judgment, anything but the sorrow and pain that were flooding him now. "You're d..d…"

"Your brother is dead, I know." Donald, or whoever he was, still spoke very softly. "We both knew, Pegasus and I. I… I wanted to tell you."

"You wanted to tell me?" Yuugi felt tears in his eyes. He heard his voice shaking. "You wanted…"

"You were just a mark. We weren't going to do any harm."

The tears were coming faster and faster. Yuugi could barely even see it, as the stranger-who-wasn't-Donald looked up at him. He thought he saw sorrow on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "My brother is dead," he said, through the sobs that were coming. "And you thought …You thought…"

"Yuugi, please!" Not-Donald stood. He put out his hands, but Yuugi didn't go to him.

"You're a liar," he said. "You lied, you used me…"

"Yes."

Yuugi looked at him. Now that he knew the truth, every difference between this stranger and Donald stood out like it had an electric light on it: His skin, which was too-tan, -Foreigner-tan, not the color Donald's skin used to turn in the sun. – his clothes, which looked brand-new and elegant, not like the well-used, practical garments Donald used to favor, his dark-red eyes. …Well he couldn't see the eyes right now; the stranger's head was bowed. But they were there; he'd seen them often enough. He'd looked into them and thought he'd seen his own soul looking back, as they'd shared …As they'd shared…

"What did you want," he asked him, his voice thick with tears. "Why did you do it? Did you want to be Earl?"

"No," - Yuugi didn't even hear the interruption, but he saw the stranger's hand go up, and start to touch his arm. He pulled away.

"I wouldn't care," he went on, "because I don't want to be Earl. I never did. It was always Donald. Father liked him best, and he was the one raised for it. And now it's going to be… It's going to be…" In actual fact, it was going to be one of the Devlin cousins, wasn't it? They lived near Glasgow, and there were hundreds of them. Just trying to keep track of all of them was tangling and tiresome. And trying to figure out who would inherit if he were gone as well as Donald? His mind only touched on the question, then it hit him again why he was asking it.

"My brother is dead," he said. "And you, you wanted to profit by it …You were going to take his place. – I don't even know your name!"

"It's Yami." The stranger's head was still bowed, his voice so low that Yuugi could barely hear him. "And I never wanted to be Earl," he said softly. "Don't believe that of me at least, Yuugi. We just wanted …Pegasus said…"

"It was the Emerald, wasn't it?" Everything fit together now: That was why "Donald" showed up right when he did, why he kept saying he was only home for a short time. "You knew my brother was dead, but you didn't care, did you? You and" – He spat the word. – "_Pegasus_."

"That's the Colonel, right? Which of you thought of the idea, _Yami_? Which one of you was it that found out _my brother_ was dead, and decided you'd use that as an excuse to steal from my family?" They stood face-to-face in the cold garden, with the December wind blowing at them, across the stumps of pruned rosebushes and herbs, frostbitten down to the root. Yuugi stared at the foreigner, the faker, who'd taken Donald's place. He'd shared his bed with him, his whole life, but what had _Yami_shared in return?

"You let me think we were committing incest." Just saying the word disgusted him. – And it wasn't even as bad as his brother being dead, was it? – The thought of their nights together disgusted him. "Téa was right, you do deserve to be arrested. – Thrown out. I hope you rot in prison, Yami, like my brother's r… like Donald…" That was all he could say, as tears choked his voice again.

"What do you want me to say, Yuugi? I've never had done this before." -

"You've never done what?" Yuugi said. "Been a conman?"

"No." The stranger, no, Yami, shook his head. "I won't lie. I've been on the con ever since Pegasus picked me up on the streets of London when I was eight, and taught me how. It's what I do. – All I know how to do. But I never fell in love with a mark before. And I love you, Yuugi. That part is true. I think I fell in love with you that first time we had tea together," – He smiled, a sad, reminiscent smile. – "when we shared the fairy cakes."

"You lie." Yuugi didn't like to think of himself as the kind of person with a lot of cynicism, but he did have some in him. Oh, he had it when he needed it, all right! "That's a pretty nice story to tell someone to keep them from turning you into the police," he said, and he sounded almost as skeptical as Téa. "You just want me to keep your secret."

"I don't!"

"No, Yuugi, I can assure you." The dry voice came from behind him, a few feet up the path toward the house. A few more steps – Yuugi heard the crackle of the leaves under his feet. – and there was the Colonel (or the imposter who called himself "Colonel") in the summerhouse with them. Yuugi wondered how much of the conversation he'd heard. "I assure you," the Colonel – _Pegasus_– said again. "My partner does truly love you. You should be flattered," he said. "Yami's been made love to by the best in all of Europe. I can't imagine why he chose you."

He turned a look toward Yami, his lazy smile replaced all at once by steely glitter. "You told," he added, his voice sharp. "Is this how you keep an agreement?"

"He found out." Yami sounded defeated, hopeless; angry as he was at him, Yuugi felt a tug of his heart at the sound. "Donald's death certificate arrived."

There was a long silence.

"I suppose you won't want me to express my condolences?" Pegasus said dryly.

"I don't want anything," Yuugi said. "From either of you. You're liars and cheats. You talked your way into my family under false pretenses, so you could steal from us. Why should I believe anything" -

"Listen, you little fool," – Yuugi's outrage surged at Pegasus' angry tone, - How dare he talk to him like that, after all he'd done to him, to the family? – but he listened. He was used to obeying adults. – "You believe whatever you damn well want about me," Pegasus said. "I came here with one thought in mind, you're right about that. I wanted the Lochmaben Emerald. And why the hell shouldn't I have it? It's not like your family uses it much. How often do you bring it out? Once a generation? To make some portrait that would look better without that big blob of green shoved onto a tartan wherever it looks ugliest? Your father won't even let your mother re-set it so it might see the light of day once in twenty years. - Oh, you believe whatever you want about me, little Yuugi, and it'll be true, all of it."

"But Yami does love you. I know it, because… Oh Christ," he cried. "Why the hell am I wasting my breath. You've already decided, haven't you? Any moment you're going to waltz off and tell Mummy and Daddy everything, like the milk-fed little mooncalf you are." –

"Pegasus!" Surprisingly, the interruption came from Yami. He took a step forward, his arms going around Yuugi's shoulders as if to protect him. And, surprisingly, Yuugi let them stay …and they felt good. "Don't talk that way about Yuugi. Can you blame him?"

"I told you," – Pegasus almost spat the words. – "I said if you gave yourself up to the boy, this was what would happen. – Didn't I, Yami? Didn't I? – I said, 'you tell your identity to the boy, and he'll have the constables here in an hour, to haul us off to the nearest gaol.' But you insisted. You said you _trusted_him."

"I do trust Yuugi." Yami's arms were still around his shoulders. Yuugi didn't understand why he let them stay there, but he did. "And if he hauls us off to gaol, we deserve it, and you know it, Pegasus. We are what he says. Every word is true. We're liars, and cheats. We came here under false pretenses, and we were going to steal from his family. I should have known I was aiming too high," he said. "A street rat like me doesn't deserve the love of someone like you, Yuugi. You're everything I'm not. You're sweet, you're good, you're trusting…"

"And you're missing the point, as usual, with all your hearts and flowers and moonshine." Pegasus was calm, his voice even and strong. "We've been found out, Yami. The question is, is your little boyfriend going to give us time for a getaway, or is he going to run straightaway to Mummy and Daddy and tell all?"

"What is he talking about, Yami?" Yuugi asked. The strange name rolled faster over his lips than he would have imagined. He still didn't push the other's arms away; it was cold, he felt cold, and this gesture of protection felt good.

"I'll go with him." Yami met Pegasus' gaze, but his voice wavered a little. "We've told too many lies to this family already. We can't keep it a secret that Donald is dead. Only please, Yuugi," – He looked down as he spoke, and Yuugi saw the urgency in his dark-red eyes. – "Can't we give Pegasus time to get away first? Just..." He looked up. "How much do you need, Pegasus? An hour? More?"

"When's the next train?" Pegasus asked dryly.

"The next train to London isn't until morning." Yuugi's response was automatic, the mundane details of railway schedules saving him thinking about anything more painful, more confusing. "There's a local that leaves at six," he said.

"Oh goody, a local." Pegasus gave a deep sigh. "Well, it seems I must choose between serving time behind bars, and rattling south all night, through every town and borough in Northern England in a chicken coop on rails. That hardly seems a choice a gentleman should have to make. And I am a gentleman, little Yuugi," he said, "and so is Yami. Although there was a time," – He smiled, and Yuugi thought he saw sadness in his smile, as well as humor. – "But I won't bore you with ancient history."

"I'm telling my parents." Yuugi's emotions confused him. The anger was still there, but there were other feelings as well now. It was the right thing to do, to tell his parents, wasn't it? Because whatever else these men were, they were criminals. And Mother and Father deserved to hear the news of Donald's death. "_Now_." There was a wrenching feeling in his throat at the thought of letting go of Yami, but he swallowed it down. This was the right thing to do.

"I'm going with you," Yami said.

And, surprisingly, Pegasus spoke up as well. "Oh Christ, what's a man to do?" he said. "I am a veritable lemming, a conformist of the deepest dye. I suppose if you jumped off a cliff, I'd have to do that as well. In short, I'm going too. I can't leave you to face that alone, Yami."

"You?" Yuugi gaped like a fish.

Pegasus just nodded, all his fancy words deserting him apparently, at the thought of what was to come. "How bad can prison be?" he said, sounding unconvinced. However he in no hurry to go indoors, and in the end it was Yami, with both arms still around Yuugi, who led the way out of the garden and up the walk to the house.


	14. The Grand Unmasking

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Nobody spoke. They just walked in the door in a group together, with Yuugi holding the letter, and Yami holding Yuugi, and Pegasus following along behind.

"Tea's in the drawing room, Master Yuugi." One of the housemaids, Sally, was just coming out of the library as they went by. "An' Cook says she'll be that worried, if it comes back uneaten again today."

If she was surprised when Yuugi walked right on past without acknowledging her, she didn't say anything, of course. It wasn't her place. But it left Yuugi feeling guilty. – Guiltier than he already did, that is, because now that the blow-up was definitely coming, he was starting to feel like the one responsible.

"I …I'm sorry." He just whispered it to the other two, as they went upstairs together.

"Yuugi, hush!" Yami said at once.

"Don't be ridiculous," his partner chimed in. "It's not as if you forced us…" – They'd reached the first floor; his voice died away as he noted the half-open drawing room door. "I suppose we'd best go in." He sounded very nervous.

Yuugi led the way. How bad could it be, - He found himself echoing Pegasus' unconvinced-sounding words to himself. – it was just Father. Mother wasn't even here, she was in the village at a Women's Auxiliary meeting, planning the church New Years Fete. …Just one person, and that someone who loved him. He swallowed. If there had to be just one of them, he wished it was Mother, who at least didn't always look at him like she disapproved of him all the time.

Pushing the door open, Yuugi walked into the drawing room, Yami and Pegasus a few steps behind. "Father, I have something to tell you." He tried for Donald's firm tone. - It was _Yami's _firm tone, he knew now, but it was still what he wanted, the tone of one man speaking to another, who was his equal.

Father was on the sofa with a book on his knee, a plate of food on the table next to his elbow. "You're late," he said looking up. "Do you think that shows proper appreciation for the good food Cook makes for us?"

"I…" Yuugi could feel all the proper manliness of his tone draining away. He was just a boy again, a bad boy getting in trouble from his Papa, the way he usually felt in Father's presence. "A …a letter came today, Father," he said.

"A letter?" Father's expression changed, as if he could feel the emotions in the room.

"It's about Donald." Yuugi handed the pages, now crumpled, and the envelope with the foreign stamps on it, to his Father. "It's…" He fought to get the words out. "It's his death certificate, Father."

"Donald…" Father's voice was just an echo. He looked up, past Yuugi, to where Yami and Pegasus stood in the doorway. "But he's right there… If this is some kind of a joke, Yuugi," he began, but the truth was written on all their faces. Father's face seemed to deflate. He unfolded the letter – Yuugi could see his hands shaking as he held it up and read it. Then, "it's a death certificate," he whispered.

He looked to Yami and Pegasus again, but now his face just looked desperate. "These things happen, don't they?" he said. "The Home Office makes mistakes."

"It's no mistake," Yami answered in a low voice. His head was down; Yuugi couldn't see his face, and there was no expression in his voice. "I am not your son, Your Lordship. I am an imposter."

"An…" Father looked toward Yuugi. "Do you understand what he's talking about?"

"Yes, Father," Yuugi answered, his voice soft and trembling. "Y-Yami explained." He threw a quick glance at the others in the doorway. Why did he feel that his loyalties here were divided? It made no sense. But he knew he felt as responsible toward Yami, as he did toward his own father.

"They're conmen." He stumbled through the explanation. "Yami and Pegasus. Yami was going to pretend he was Donald, so he could get the Lochmaben Emerald, and…"

"What? And you knew about this, Yuugi?"

"Only just now," Yuugi said. "They told me."

Father stared, his face a blank, first of confusion, and then of icy, hopeless despair. "My son is dead," - He said it very softly. - "gone. And you stand here, defending a pack of conmen and imposters, Yuugi."

Yuugi felt the force of his words deep into his soul. They weren't true, not really; he hadn't defended Yami yet. But he meant to, didn't he? It was what he was going to do, if it came to that. This was the moment, Yuugi thought, when his loyalties stopped being divided, and he chose whose side he was on.

"Out of the room." Yuugi had never seen such a cold, hateful look on his father's face. There was anger there, and it wasn't just directed at Yami and Pegasus, but at him as well. "Get out, all of you," Father said. "I have to think. – I must talk to your mother about this. Yuugi, is there a telephone at the Vicarage do you know?"

"I …I'm sure I don't know, Father."

"Just go then," Father said. "I don't even want to look at you right now, Yuugi. And as for you," he added, looking up and fixing Yami and Pegasus with a hard stare, "I'll see to you two later."

* * *

><p>"But Father…"<p>

"Go!"

Yami, watching, saw the look of pain that went across Yuugi's face as his father sent him away. Guilt crawled through his stomach. - This was his fault, his and Pegasus'. – But with it, went a resolve that he would be there for Yuugi, he would protect him …somehow, some way …If there was any way he could protect him, when he was facing prison himself.

What had happened to all his promises that they'd be together, he asked himself, as he followed Yuugi, and Pegasus followed him, down the stairs and into the library on the ground floor? Here he was, powerless, with no way of protecting even himself …Or Pegasus, because he was the reason his partner was still here, wasn't he? Pegasus could be halfway to Drumfires and that local that would take him to London by now, couldn't he, if he hadn't chosen to stay?

"Father loves us," - Yuugi stopped, as if realizing what he'd said. "I …I mean he loves _me_," he said. "But Don …ah, _Yami_, he won't have you arrested, not when he realizes how much you mean to me. He _can't_," he said, his voice going a little thin at the end.

"And he won't arrest Pegasus, because…" Yuugi stood stock-still just inside the doorway of the dark library, as if he couldn't go any further, not with his feet, and not with his thoughts either. Wordlessly, Yami moved to stand beside him, his arms around Yuugi's shoulders trying to provide comfort even when he half wondered if there was comfort left for any of them.

"He won't arrest Pegasus, because Pegasus is going to escape." Belying his words, what Pegasus actually _did_, was to switch the electric lamps that lighted the room, going from one to the next, as careful as a well-trained housemaid. "There's no one watching us," he said. "The Earl is so kerflummoxed that he forgot to set a guard. From the looks of him, we might have until morning before he remembers."

_He _wasn't acting on his words, and he must have known Yami wasn't going to. Maybe this was his idea of an encouraging speech.

"You could come with us, little Yuugi." Now he stood next to the table nearest the window, idly flicking through a copy of _Punch_. – From his angle near the door, Yami could see columns of dense print, and George du Maurier cartoons, as the pages of the magazine went back and forth, Pegasus paying them no attention at all. – "You might not make such a bad addition to our little band. And of course Yami would be pleased, wouldn't you?" He looked up, meeting his partner's eyes, his face looking almost as hopeless as Yami felt.

"I never cared much for freedom anyhow." Pegasus dropped onto the sofa with a sudden movement. He ripped open the magazine randomly, and stuck his nose into the pages, all his motions violent. "Highly overrated," he said, "all those decisions and whatnot that one must make for one's self." And he was silent.

* * *

><p>Pegasus had said something about him becoming a partner with him and Yami, and in a way, he sort of had, Yuugi thought. The decision to step outside the law wasn't even a new one. He'd known what he was doing back when he first admitted he was in love with – He'd thought. – his brother. He'd known that it was a crime for one man to love another, no matter who he was, but he hadn't turned back. Now this was where he belonged: In the company of conmen and thieves.<p>

But it was hard for him to think of Yami and Pegasus as criminals (which was probably proof that he belonged with them even more). Yuugi looked at Pegasus, who sat flipping through the pages of an old issue of _Punch_, with only the faintest tension around the shoulders to show this wasn't just any idle afternoon for him. There was good in the man, whatever his past might be: He'd had the chance to flee, but he hadn't taken it. He'd stayed here out of loyalty for Yami. Yuugi leaned closer into Yami's arms. His ex-brother, his pretended-brother, whatever one wanted to call him: Yami had tried several times, to tell who he really was. Looking back, Yuugi remembered all of them. And today when his secret had been found out, and he could have run, what had he done instead? Not only had he stayed here, but the only things he'd done were to minister to Yuugi's needs, and try to protect his partner.

Father was taking an unconscionable long time to send for him again, Yuugi thought. He wasn't sure how long they'd been in here, - From where he was sitting on the sofa nearest the door of the library, he couldn't see the clock in the corner of the room, and he'd forgotten his watch on his bedside table. – but it seemed like hours, hours and hours and _hours_.

He wondered how much longer Mother would be out. She'd send for him, wouldn't she? _She_ wouldn't be so caught up in mourning one son that she forgot she had another one, like Father. …Even as he thought that, Yuugi pushed back against the thought. Father _did_ love him, he'd shown it over and over again. It was just that he… Somewhere at the back of his mind, knocked the idea that Father just loved Donald _more_, but Yuugi wouldn't let it in. He leaned into the arms of one man who most demonstrably _did _love him, and tried – unsuccessfully - to put the problem of his parents out of his mind. And the clock ticked along – He could hear it tick, even if he wasn't at an angle to read it. – and more hours went by, until somehow Yuugi woke to find himself curled on the sofa, with Yami drooped halfway on top of him.


	15. Later That Evening

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

For a moment, he didn't know what had woken him.

"Your Lordship, Your Ladyship."

The first voice he heard was Pegasus, followed immediately by his Father's: "Silence, you damned scoundrel. Sit down!"

And his Mother's, as she said, "Oh Max, how _could _you?"

"Mother?" Yuugi was still so sleep-fuddled that he was halfway surprised to feel the library's carpeting under his feet, instead of the bare floorboards of the nursery, as he stood. He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway with Father.

"Oh Yuugi!" She rushed across the room to him. "My poor, poor boy!" He was engulfed in the silk and fluff of her sleeves, the smell of her Parma violet sachet strong in his nose. It smelled like comfort.

"Mother…" Yuugi would have thought he was past tears, but he could feel them starting again, soaking the lacy bosom of his mother's dress.

"Oh Yuugi," she said again, and he could hear the tears starting in her voice too. "When I think of Donald, when I picture him as he was the last time… The last time…"

Awkwardly, his father moved close; pressed tight in his mother's arms, Yuugi didn't see him, but he heard the footsteps, and felt his arm go around both of them. "He was so full of life," - Mother's voice was shaky. – "so stalwart."

Yuugi felt the warmth of his father's body close to his. He smelt his smell, pipe tobacco and a faint whiff of aged whiskey, and felt the stiff movement of his muscles, as he moved to pat Mother's shoulder. He felt the vibration of his voice as he spoke: "I know dear," he said. "And Yuugi knows. You are with family, dearest" –

Yuugi also felt the sharp break as Father stopped talking, the tightness that went over his body. He looked up, but he already knew the glare he'd see on his face, as he looked toward Yami and Pegasus.

"Get out." Father's voice was a whipcrack. "Haven't you intruded on our privacy enough?"

"Father, please," Yuugi began, only to feel his resolution die away, as his father turned his glare upon him. "I… They…"

"Your father is right," Mother said, her voice sharp. "These men are conmen, criminals. They've intruded enough on our privacy already," – Here she threw another pained, bitter glance, Pegasus' way. – "I hardly think we're going to discuss our son, D-Donald… Oh, but I thought you were my son," she cried, turning her gaze toward Yami. "I thought he'd come back safely and we would all be together again. How could you, Don – Ohhh, I don't even know your name!"

"It's Yami," Yami said softly. "And I know it's too little too late Your Ladyship, but I am sorry. - We both are. Pegasus and I didn't know your son was dead when we came here."

Yuugi felt his mother's body stiffen. "Silence!" Her voice was shrill. "Be still. Do you think I want to hear your apologies?"

"Mother, please." Yuugi tried to pull away, but his mother's grip on him only tightened.

"You are a liar," she told Yami, her voice harsh, "you and your friend Max, or whatever his name is. Do you think it matters to us that you didn't _know_Donald was dead? Would it have changed what you did if you had known?"

"I won't stand for your presence for another minute," she continued. "I want you out of the mansion, right now."

"We want Constable Greer for this." Father's voice rumbled. "Has he got a telephone at his house? Margaret, do you know?"

"No father, no!" His words were disloyalty, Yuugi felt sure, but he couldn't help saying them. "You can't!"

"Yuugi, keep out of this," his mother warned. "This doesn't concern you."

"I'll send one of the footmen," Father said. Henry can get the cart out again and drive him down. The gaol is too good for you," he added, looking toward Yami and Pegasus. "I'd like to see you transported – Or whipped! Look how you've made my wife cry."

"Father, stop! You can't" –

"No, Yuugi." This time the voice stopping him was Yami's, and Yuugi caught his breath, the words dying on his lips. "Your father's right," Yami said. "We're everything he said, Pegasus and I. We didn't think about your feelings when we came here. We deserve whatever punishment the law gives us."

"Whipping? Hard labor?" Pegasus' comment was barely audible, but Yami whirled on him.

"For Christ's sake yes," he said. "Because we broke the law. Aren't you the one that said there's no escaping fate forever? That every new job was a gamble? Well we gambled, and we lost. And if you think about it," – He looked from Mother, to Father, to Yuugi, and then back at Pegasus again. – "I don't believe we'll suffer nearly as much pain as Yuugi's family is doing, no matter what happens to us."

It was a noble speech, Yuugi could not help feeling, but it made no difference at all with Father, who was across the room ready to ring for the butler before Yami had even finished speaking. "We'll sort this out," he said. "The legal system is not what it was, but I daresay a malefactor can still expect some punishment for a crime as flagrant as this one."

"Oh, cease talking rubbish," Pegasus (of all people) broke in. "You're a nobleman, naturally everything is going to go your way. You sit here in your fine castle, with all your millions, and all your treasure tucked away. The pain of the world isn't supposed to touch you, is it? That's for the lesser sorts. – The rich man in his castle, the poor man at the gate and all that rot, eh? Your kind make me sick!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Yuugi was as surprised as any of them, when he shouted over the talk that filled the room. "Father, you can't arrest Yami, you can't!" Yuugi broke free from his mother to stand in front of Yami, his arms out as if he could protect him with his own body. "I love him," he said. "We're lovers, and I won't let you send him to gaol."

The silence that settled on the library was deafening. Mother stared. Father goggled. Pegasus did …something. There was a choking sound coming from his end of the room, but Yuugi didn't look over to see his reaction.

"Wh…what?" It felt like it took several minutes before Father's mouth could frame even this reaction. "What, Yuugi?"

"Yuugi," Mother stammered. "Y-you… you can't be serious. Do you even know what that means?"

"Oh I know what it means," Yuugi said. "And it's not dirty, it's beautiful and true. We love each other, Mother, and I won't be separated from him. Wherever Yami goes, I go too."

"It's all your fault," Mother said, turning to Yami. "You and Max. You filled my son's head with these horrible, disgusting ideas. And now look what he's done – What he wants to do!"

"Your Ladyship…"

"Silence!" Mother cried, sobbing through her words. "Aren't your lies about Donald enough? Did you have to pervert Yuugi as well?"

"Enough," Father boomed. "No more distractions." He pressed the button on the bell, summoning the butler. "Yuugi, we'll talk to you later. Gilmour will be here any moment. I don't want him hearing any of your disgusting talk."

"Really, father?" Yuugi swallowed. He summoned nerve he'd never known he had. – Yami must have been his example, he thought, and the courage he'd shown in standing by him when he could have escaped. "You think I care what the servants think? I don't care what the whole world thinks, Father. I love Yami, and if he goes to gaol, I'm going with him."

"Disgusting," Father sputtered. "What rot. He's filled your head with delusions, Yuugi. Your place is here with your family."

"Father," - Yuugi smiled. It felt good to take a stand. It felt _right_. – "Yami and Pegasus are not the only lawbreakers here. I have committed a crime by loving Yami. If Constable Greer arrests him, I'll confess and he can arrest me as well."

The general shock at his words must have distracted everyone. Surely Gilmour had knocked to announce his presence as he usually did, but it seemed like the whole room jumped in surprise, as the door to the library opened, and the butler poked his head in.

"You rang, Your Lordship?" he said.

"Yes, yes I did." Father didn't seem to be in a hurry to give Gilmour any orders. He kept glancing from Yuugi, to Yami, to Mother, and then back again. Gilmour waited patiently; he kept standing in that attitude of his, that Yuugi thought of as his butler-attitude, that looked like he could stay there forever, and still be just as ready to help "His Lordship and the youngsters", but no orders came. "I…I," Father stammered.

"Father," Yuugi urged. "Think about what you're doing."

"Your Lordship?" Gilmour repeated.

Yuugi saw his father's gaze flick past his shoulder, to where Yami and Pegasus, stood behind him. Then he looked back toward Gilmour.

"Show these two…" He swallowed, his face more troubled than Yuugi had ever seen it. "Show them," - He pointed toward Yami and Pegasus, not saying their names out loud. - "to their rooms and make sure they stay there for the night."

"Master Donald and Colonel Crawford, sir?" Gilmour sounded confused.

"You don't know what you're doing, Father." Now that he'd taken a stand, Yuugi wasn't going to back down. If prison was in the future for Yami, and it seemed his father was going to take it that far, well then he would be going there too. "I'll only go upstairs with them."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," Mother put in, her voice shrill.

And at the same time, "nonsense," Father thundered. "You're going to your own room, Yuugi, and you'll stay there. It is a child's duty to obey his parents." He looked toward Gilmour, who was still standing in the doorway, still looking mostly expectant, and only a little bit confused.

"Well," he said. "What are you waiting for? Haven't I given you your orders?"

"Very good, Your Lordship." For once in his life, Yuugi saw Gilmour's butler-attitude crack. The man's face was unhappy, his manner unwilling in the extreme, as he stepped away from the door, ushering Yami, Pegasus, and Yuugi as well, into the hallway. ""Do forgive me, Master Donald," he said, after the library door had been shut again. "I have no grudge against you. But I have to obey your father. – Oh, son, son, can't ye get right again with him, and save this old man having to do it?"

"I'm afraid there's no chance of that," Yami murmured.

"I'm going up with him," Yuugi put in, and Gilmour nodded.

"Of course," he said. "I won't tell your father if he asks."


	16. In Donald's Room, Waiting

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

"Yami, we can't stay here." Upstairs in Donald's old room, Yuugi barely waited until Gilmour closed the door behind them before turning to Yami. "We have to get out of here, tonight, before Father sends for the constable."

"I've got ten pounds." Yuugi patted his pocket. "Oh, and I have the sovereigns Grandfather sent me for Christmas every year until he died. That's," – He thought. – "Oh, that has to be 15 more pounds there. That's twenty-five. And if you have money… - How much are train tickets?"

Surprisingly, Yami just stood there. It was as if he didn't realize the urgency of the situation. Or maybe he thought there was no way out. "It's all right," Yuugi told him. "No one on staff will stop us leaving. Gilmour's told them what happened, I'm sure. They still think you're D…" He swallowed, his brother's name still hard to say. "That helps us though, see?" he went on. "Because this way they'll want to help you…"

Yuugi's voice trailed off, as the reality of the situation sank in for him: His brother was dead, and he was encouraging the pretender who had posed as him to continue his pretense? Only the thing was, he needed Yami to lie. The servants had to believe they were helping Master Donald, because if they knew the truth they'd be rushing to get the constable faster than Father. And he couldn't – He just _couldn't _say goodbye to Yami.

Yuugi crept close to him. He put his arms around him, needing a response, not expecting one; Yami was in shock, wasn't he? That was the only explanation for why he just stood there, not doing anything. But once they were close, his arms came up. They were like one body with two souls now, united, the way they always should be. After a while Yami put his hand up, stroking Yuugi's hair.

"We have to get out of here," Yuugi murmured. It felt good to be in Yami's arms, it felt safe. But every minute that they stayed was one minute less to get away. It was one minute more in which they risked detection. Supposing Father was even now, telling Gilmour who Yami really was? Supposing the whole staff found out?

"But there's no train." With his ear pressed against Yami's chest, Yuugi _felt_his voice as well as hearing it. "You said yourself, all there was, was that 6:00 local. It's past 6:00 now." Yami sounded way less worried than he should have been. He sounded like he had all the time in the world, and only cuddling Yuugi to do with it. Yuugi pushed back against the comfort of the feeling.

"We'll stay at the inn," he said. "Or we'll have Henry drive us to the next station. What was it Pegasus called it?" – He tried for a laugh. – "Rattling along in a chicken coop on wheels? I'd rather ride in a chicken coop with you than me be locked up in one jail cell, and you in another." He leaned into Yami's embrace. He didn't want to move away. But every moment he stood there, it was like he could hear the clock ticking away one more moment of their chance to escape. "Joey would let us stay at his house for the night," he said.

"You're the one who said to trust your father." Yami just stood there. He kept stroking Yuugi's hair. He didn't sound happy, but he didn't sound worried either. "Well," he said, "I do trust him."

"After everything he said?" Yuugi pulled away, looking at him in surprise. "That you're a liar, and that hanging is too good for you and all that? Yami no! Father meant it, I could hear it in his voice."

He looked across the room, at the travel clock Donald had kept on his bedside table since he was 12: More time had gone by than he'd thought, it was almost 8:30 now.

"We have to leave," Yuugi said. "We have to leave now."

"No, Yuugi." Yami sounded old, suddenly, and tired. He pulled Yuugi close, but there was precious little comfort left in their closeness.

"Where am I supposed to take you?" he said. "Where would we go? I'm not going to make you a conman with me and Pegasus. You don't belong in that life, always going from hotel to hotel, always pretending to be someone you aren't." His hand went up to stroke Yuugi's hair, slender fingers sifting through the strands. "There has to come an end to the lies, Yuugi. I want to live the rest of my life honestly like you, not make you into a liar too."

"But Father said… We can still…"

"Shhh." Yami pulled him down onto Donald's bed next to him. He kept stroking his hair. The feeling was comforting, but sad too, in a way.

"What if this is the last night we have together," Yuugi said softly. "What if …Oh, hold me close, Yami."

Yami held him close. "It won't be," he said. "Your father's not made of stone. I'm sure he'll make a decision with his heart, not with his mind."

Yuugi kept silent. He wasn't so sure about it as Yami, but he saw that running away wasn't the answer to their troubles. He shivered. So many people were being taken away from him, it felt like: First Donald, and now Yami was about to be too.

The room grew gradually colder, the morning fire long-dead, and no one coming in to start another one as they normally did in the evenings. Perhaps Father had forbidden any of the servants to come in here. It grew darker too, neither of them wanting to let go of each other long enough to turn on a light. They sat very close on the edge of Donald's bed, the only sound the tick of the clock, and the soft sound of their breathing.


	17. Yuugi Faces The Constabulary

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yami didn't know what time it was when he woke up. He didn't know what it was that woke him either, whether it was the coldness of Donald's unheated bedroom, or the discomfort of sleeping half-upright, still wearing all his clothes. Then he heard a voice from the doorway: "Begging your pardon sir, but His Lordship says I must fetch you right now." He looked up to see one of the housemaids - Lizzie, he thought her name was. - in the doorway, and realized she must have been knocking for some time, and that was what woke him.

"Y-Yami?" Yuugi was curled on the bed beside him, his head in Yami's lap. He looked up now, his hair tousled, his face still creased with sleep. "Is it morning?" Still half-asleep, he looked the same cute, loving boy he'd always been, but he woke quickly, and Yami saw his face change as he remembered the events of the day before.

"Is the constable here?" First he asked it of Yami, then he looked at the girl in the doorway. "Tell Father we'll be right down," he told her.

"Yes Master Yuugi." The automatic obedient response, followed by her protest: "You can stay abed if you like," she said. "Your father only said he wanted Master Donald."

Yuugi stood. Fully dressed, with his starched collar under one ear and one buckle of his knickers undone as he was, he still looked dignified, and more mature than Yami had ever seen him. "This concerns both of us, Lizzie. Tell Father we'll both be right down."

"Yes Master Yuugi." The girl was gone, and Yuugi wasted no time in following her. He paused in the doorway of the bedroom to re-buckle his knickers, ran a hand through the tumbled strands of his red-blond hair. – Yami would have waited long enough to comb his hair properly, and perhaps change clothes as well. – Then he was ready.

"Yuugi," – Yami stopped him in the doorway, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You remember what you told him last night?" He meant that Yuugi would give himself up to the constable as well, if the Earl tried to have him arrested. But he didn't want to say the words; he didn't want to picture Yuugi behind bars even for long enough to say them. "You won't…" – Normally he was the strong one, the firm one, but now he was stammering, as nervous as a schoolboy. – "I mean, that was just talk, wasn't it? It's bad enough one of us should go to prison," he said. "I don't want it to be both of us, Yuugi."

"Last night you said we could trust Father, and I'm going to trust him." Yuugi's voice shook, but only a little bit; someone outside the conversation probably wouldn't have caught it. He stood firm though, pausing in the doorway just long enough to talk to Yami, before continuing toward the stairs. "He won't send me to prison, and he won't send you either."

"Yuugi, just don't give yourself up." Yami put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him as he reached the stairs. "I don't care what happens as long as it's just to me." -

With a jerk of his shoulder, Yuugi shook him off. "No," he said, his voice rising. "I won't stand by and watch Father arrest you, you can't tell me to do it."

He continued down the stairs, pausing on the landing to look back and see if Yami was coming. "You'll see," he said, slipping his hand into Yami's as they entered the ground floor drawing room together. "Father will do the right thing." Silently, Yami followed. He'd like to have believed Yuugi, but he couldn't summon much confidence.

And inside the drawing room, was a daunting sight: The Earl sat, very upright in a wing-chair, as if it were a throne. His wife was to one side, her face troubled, her hands wringing nervously, as though she were unable to keep them still. A tall, rawboned man on the hearthrug, his Inverness cape still on, and just unbuttoned to allow for the heat in the room, had to be Constable Greer. So the Earl was going to do it, Yami thought, and he prayed to whatever gods might recognize a London street-Arab and ex-Muslim, who'd been living a sinful life these past ten years, that Yuugi would hold off from making his own confession as well. Under the cold eyes of the assemblage, he found it impossible to believe that Lord Kirkconnell would relent; it would be both of them in prison instead of just one, if Yuugi said the wrong thing. And that, he couldn't bear to see happen.

"Come in." The Earl glanced Yami's way, ignoring Yuugi's presence altogether. "Let's get this over with."

Yami heard Yuugi catch his breath_. "_Father, no," he said softly.

"Stay out of this, Yuugi." The Earl's voice wasn't his normal boom, but something almost like a growl. Apparently Yami wasn't the only one worried by Yami's threat. "This doesn't concern you."

He looked toward the constable, standing on the hearthrug. "We're about ready to begin," he said. "There's just one more gentleman to wait for."

Pegasus. He meant Pegasus. Yami wondered whether his partner was taking his time arriving on purpose, to give him and Yuugi more time. But more time for what?

"Father, there's no need to wait." Yuugi stepped forward. "Remember, I have something to tell Constable Greer too." He looked at his father, challenge written on his face. "Shall I go first?"

"Yuugi, be still!" The Earl's voice rose. "I told you to keep out of this."

"Do as your father says, Yuugi." From the sidelines, the Countess spoke up, her voice sounding very unhappy. "You've always been a good boy."

"I will not have defiance in this household." The Earl was still thundering, but his voice sounded a little scared. Yami was scared too. How far was Yuugi going to go with this? And what would happen when the events went out of his control?

"This doesn't concern me?" Yuugi threw a challenging look at his father. "Father, this concerns everything about me." He looked at the constable. "Did Father tell you why he wanted you here, Constable Greer?"

"No sir, Master Yuugi." Greer looked nothing but confused. He looked at the Earl, then looked back at Yuugi. Who knew what was going through his mind? He had to be used to the way Lord Kirkconnell blustered and shouted, but did he know Yuugi at all? And did he know him as anything but the friendly, playful boy he normally was?

"I brought you here," the Earl began. He threw an angry, very stern look at his son, as if daring him to say a word. Then he looked back at Greer. "There are some people…"

"There has been a crime committed here," Yuugi said. He stood very straight, and he looked dead-on at Constable Greer, not sparing even a glance at his father. Yami's heart swelled, even while fear gnawed at him: This was courage, this was love in action. Yuugi had promised he would not let Yami go to prison alone, and he was standing by his words. "Perhaps Father didn't tell you the details, but I will."

"A crime?" Like so many, apparently the Constable was used to underestimating Yuugi, because his head turned toward the Earl, and it was to him that he addressed his questions. "Has there been a crime?"

The Earl looked conflicted. It was the only word. His face was troubled in a way Yami hadn't seen before, not even right after he'd found out about Donald's death. He looked Yami's way, then he looked at Yuugi, and then he looked back toward the constable.

"Tell him, Father." Yuugi's voice was low. "Tell him or I will."

"A crime?" Greer repeated the words like saying them again might make this whole confrontation start having some sense to it. "Someone has stolen… There's been violence perhaps?"

There was a long silence, a very long silence. Everyone looked at everyone else; no one said a word. Greer's face was a study in confusion, while the Earl's face showed a look Yami couldn't find a name for. Only Yuugi's expression was un-conflicted, love shining out of it, and the courage of someone willing to speak the simple truth. Then, right when Yami was wondering if anyone would speak at all, a voice broke the silence.

"Ohh, if no one else will tell you the truth, I will." It was the Countess. She threw a quick, challenging look her husband's way, then she continued. "It's simply a crime, Mr. Greer, how my husband and I have been neglecting our local constabulary, and all our generosity has been going elsewhere all these years."

Yami gaped. He looked around and saw that the others in the room were surprised as well. Yuugi's eyes were like saucers. The Earl was opening and shutting his mouth, as stunned-looking as a fish on ice. Only the Constable was taking her words calmly. No doubt he was past trying to understand the ways of the nobility.

The Countess was taking out her purse. "Why just this afternoon," she said, "I gave rather a large contribution to the dear Vicar for the church repair fund. And the ladies were talking about how we should raise money for the poor-fund as well. But it's one thing to help a lot of shiftless beggars. What have we done for our brave men who protect our dear community? That's the question I asked myself." She had her checkbook in her hand. "And I want to know, dear Constable Greer: Is there a fund for the support of retired police officers? One to help your men if they are wounded in the line of duty? I simply can't bear the thought that the men who protect me might want for anything after they are past working any more."

"Your Ladyship…" The constable's mouth didn't seem to be working quite right; his words coming out in jerks, through stiff lips. All his movements were stiff, and he stared at the Countess like he'd never seen anyone fill out a check before. "I… – Certainly we have a fund."

"Thank you, Your Ladyship," he mumbled, taking the completed check from her but without any change to the confused look on his face. And if he looked confused, the rest of the assembly looked gobsmacked. The Earl in particular, looked like he couldn't decide if he was angry or delighted, relieved or confused. His eyes were so round they looked about to pop out of his head, and he opened and shut his mouth, watching his wife as if her actions would tell him what to say.

"Father?" Yuugi stood still and straight, as he'd been standing since he'd come into the room. He didn't push his father, he just looked at him with the proud look of someone standing on principle.

"The Earl and I like to think of ourselves as friends of the constabulary." Meanwhile, Her Ladyship was burbling on, her usual stream of cooing, not-quite-meaningful chatter, and she edged Constable Greer away from the rest of the group, engaging him in conversation about the police fund, who it covered, and where it was most in need of revenue. In the background, Yami could hear them, the constable telling her about several officers who had lost limbs due to improperly use of animal-traps, and the Countess suggesting that she put this before the ladies of the church, and raise more funds that way. He felt relief, but mixed with confusion, as he watched the two principal actors in this scene, face off against each other.

"You know I have nothing to say." The Earl's voice was gruff, and he didn't look Yuugi in the eye as he spoke. "Your mother is protecting you the way she always does."

"I'm not afraid, Father." Yuugi looked toward the other side of the room, where the Countess and Constable Greer were talking. "The constable is still here, if you have something you want to tell him."

The Earl followed Yuugi's gaze, but then looked quickly back at his son. "By God, Yuugi! A man! A criminal," he sputtered.

"The heart has its reasons, Father. Did you choose to fall in love when you met Mother?"

"Your mother and I… It was a very good match. Oh by God, I can't talk to you any more Yuugi." The Earl sprung from his chair, his whole manner a study of agitation. But he kept his voice low, pitching his words to avoid the constable hearing. "You are completely out of control," he said. "I tremble to think what kind of end you will come to," and he hustled out of the room, his movements quick and abrupt.

"Have I missed anything?" It seemed no sooner did the Earl shut the door behind him, than Pegasus was opening it, popping his head in like a Punch and Judy show. His partner looked bright and debonair as always, Yami noted, not deigning to notice (or show that he noticed) such little things as the risk of being sent to prison.

"Oh, good morning Colonel." The Countess' own façade was just as good; from the looks of her, she might have been at a garden party, enjoying the company of all her favorite friends. "Do come in. I was going to show Constable Greer out, and then we'll go to the dining room and have breakfast, shall we?"

"Breakfast, ah certainly." His eyes flicked toward Yami and Yuugi. If ever there was a man _looking "_what the hell is going on," Pegasus was that man. "The most important meal of the day, isn't that what they call it? Ah, good morning, Constable, er, Margaret?" His bow toward the Countess was just a shade stiff, his voice a bit nervous, as befits a man when he's not quite sure but what one guest might still turn around and arrest the other one.

"Dear Colonel." There was the tiniest hint of acid in the Countess's tone, nothing Greer would be likely to notice. "Trot along into the dining room with the boys, won't you? I'll just show the constable out, and then we'll have a nice talk." For a sweet lady, she could be ominous when she wanted to be, and there was something of that in her look now, or perhaps it was in her voice. Her 'nice talk', Yami suspected, might be harder to deal with than any of the Earl's roaring, thunderous speeches.

"Yes, ...Er, certainly." But it wasn't Pegasus who left, so much as Yuugi who hustled him out. - He hustled Yami out as well, his presence of mind, or his familiarity with his mother's expectations, better at this confusing moment, than either of theirs.

"Your mother just saved us, didn't she?" They were in the hallway outside the dining room when Yami found his voice. - Pegasus still seemed confused into silence. - "Did you expect that?"

"Mother loves us." Yuugi caught himself, swallowed, then spoke again. "She will love you, Yami, she'd love anyone I... Well, she'll love you, because we're together. She understands that. You're her family now, as well as me. She's just faster than Father is, at understanding that."


	18. Yami Faces The Countess

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

He opened the door of the dining room. Inside, breakfast was laid out just like any other morning. The toast racks were filled, the chafing dishes steamed. Fragrance rose from a dozen delicious dishes, and a pot of tea sat under its cozy, with sugar bowl and cream pitcher close by. Of the Earl, there was no sign, but the serving girl, Lizzie, who'd been fetched Yami and Yuugi down earlier, was there, hanging around, dusting random objects, looking more as if she was waiting, than like she had any real purpose for being there.

"Good morning again, Master Donald, Master Yuugi." Her words were the bare, correct greeting of a servant to an employer, but her face spoke volumes. "I…" She looked at them urgently. "That is to say..." A swallow, and she fiddled with her apron. "Oh, Master Donald, Master Yuugi, you're not leaving, are you?"

"Oh, Lizzie." Yuugi hugged her. - By every rule of aristocratic behavior that Pegasus had taught Yami, by every standard he'd expect of the nobility, it was completely wrong. It was an astoundingly inappropriate thing to do, but Yuugi, put love ahead of station as he'd always done, ever since Yami had known him. He was warm and caring to a servant girl, just as he was to his mother and father ...just as he was to a street-rat from Central London, who'd lied and pretended to be his brother. "No, we're not leaving," he said. "We wouldn't leave, this is our home."

"Your father..." The girl seemed relieved, a little confused.

"Mother," Yuugi said, and Lizzie nodded, as if this answered a question she hadn't dared ask.

"Her Ladyship's a good person. Impulsively, Lizzie gave Yuugi another quick hug, then she turned and broke away. "I'd better tell Cook," she said. "She'll want to know. Oh, thank you, Master Yuugi," and she left the room.

As soon as they were alone, Pegasus turned towards Yuugi and Yami. "What the hell just happened?"

"Mother," Yuugi stammered.

While at the same time, "the Countess," Yami said.

Pegasus' eyes widened. "And the Earl just let her?" Before the others could so much as nod, "she said she wanted a talk with me, didn't she?" He clutched Yami's shoulder, threw Yuugi an appealing glance. "You'll both stay, won't you?"

It would be more than any of them could do, to cross Her Ladyship when she was in full spate, Yami thought, feeling a little amusement at the greenish, fearful look his normally debonair partner wore on his face, combined with fear at the thought that he might have to face her himself as well. The tap-tap-tap of heels in the hallway outside the door, told him that _someone_was going to face her though, and sooner rather than later.

A moment later, the door opened. The lady outside was petite and sweet-faced, dressed in fluffy lace and smelling of lavender sachet in proper motherly fashion, but though her smile was warm, the steely glint in her eye brooked no opposition.

"Yuugi dear," she said. "Run along up to your room, will you? There's a good boy. And Don - Ah, Yami, why don't you go with him? I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."

"Begging your pardon, Your Ladyship," - Pegasus, normally the equal of whoever he met, from Dukes all the way down to flower-sellers in Covent Garden, was in full crawl-mode now, as meek as a servant facing his master. "but I'm not staying. Perhaps you should speak to..."

"Did you say something, dear?" The Countess tilted her head his way, her expression never changing. "If you'd rather talk to the constable instead of me?"

"Oh no, Your Ladyship. It's just that I'm ...Yami's the one who will be staying here, you see."

"Perhaps you're right." She nodded. "All right, dear, Yami may stay. Trot along now, Yuugi. We're going to have a nice talk, just the three of us."

She watched, waited until her son was out of the room. When she turned back to the other two, she was entirely the lady of the manor, her motherly attitude gone completely. "Sit down, you two," she said. "There are some important things we need to discuss."

There was no thought of disobeying.

The Countess for her part, took her time. She poured a little tea, tasted it, then rang for Lizzie to bring fresh hot water. Then she waited, before bringing the hot pot to the table.

"Tea, Yami?" It wasn't an offer, it was an order. "And for you, Max dear?" Fragile, bone-china cups were passed to them, cups containing the proper mix of tea, lemon and cream to suit each of their taste, such as any good hostess would provide.

"Who are you?" The Countess looked at Yami over her teacup. "I want the whole story, and I want the truth."

There was no point keeping anything from her; her blue eyes felt like they could see into his soul and extract any secrets he kept back. Yami gave her what she'd asked for: The whole story. About his birth in Egypt, about his mother's death while he was still a baby, about his father taking him to London, and how he'd died too, just a few years later. He told about the desperation of trying to find a living all by himself, on the streets of London, and how he'd been grateful to accept Pegasus' offer of help, even though it had meant helping him to con people and break the law.

The Countess listened, her eyes cool, impassive, maybe showing a little more warmth as he told his story, but certainly not showing any of the quick emotion he might have expected from a relative of Yuugi's.

"And is that the whole truth then?" she asked when he was done.

Yami nodded.

"I hope so, for your sake." Her words were cool, but the look she gave him was not unkind.

The Countess turned to Pegasus. "And you," she said, "did you really take this boy off the streets so you could teach him to be a criminal? Did you have no thought of his character?"

Pegasus' face hardened just a little. "Begging your pardon Your Ladyship," he murmured. "I thought more of his survival. He was starving on the streets."

The Countess just looked at him.

"I grew up among the aristocracy," Pegasus said. "All through my childhood I was with them, but not one of them. As an adult, I turned the lies I learned as a child to my own profit. I'd never been trained for a profession, or taught to do an honest day's work. What was I supposed to do, starve? And I'm not ashamed of having taught Yami the same thing. He's good-looking, he's talented; he'd have been wasted in the life of a rag-picker."

_A rag-picker_… The Countess' gaze flicked over to Yami for a moment. What was she seeing, he wondered. Was it the street-Arab lowlife he'd been, or the presentable gentleman he'd managed to make of himself?

"Enough." She looked back at Pegasus. "You're Raffles in your own eyes, I'm sure. You're the very picture of a heroic, larger-than-life villain, and your exciting crimes of stealing a family's heirlooms or kissing married women on the sly are much more thrilling than the normal lives of law-abiding people. Never mind," she said. "You'll be gone soon enough, and I'll have the task of straightening out your young protegee's character." She looked back at Yami again, and this time he knew he did not mistake the kindness in her expression.

"Did you really come so close to starving?" She sounded like a mother, like his mother probably sounded, long, long ago.

"There was food to be gotten." Yami didn't like to even think about his past, but if this was the way to the Countess' heart, he didn't want to stint with the details. "I worked," he said. "And my father had a few friends in London. They helped me sometimes."

The Countess looked at him, her face kind. "Didn't your father teach you to be honest?"

"Honest!" He heard Pegasus' snort. He knew his partner wanted to jump in and defend him – defend his own role in Yami's life, - but he took the question himself instead of letting Pegasus answer it.

"My father taught me not to hurt people," he said. "And I never have. – Pegasus and I haven't. I've survived by playing cards, - And I don't cheat. – and by flirting with people who wanted to be flirted with, and could afford to pay for the pleasure." He looked down. "You're the first people who were ever going to be really hurt by one of our cons."

"And look how that turned out." The Countess' expression was very kind now, very close to motherly. "I can't say I condone your actions," she said. "And I can't imagine how you ever thought you could take my son's place and _not_cause my family pain."

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Your 'Ighness," Yami said, his accent clearly audible in his nervousness.

"It's Your Ladyship." The Countess' look at him was nothing but kind. "And you may call me Mother."

"And as for this reprobate:" – She looked at Pegasus, amusement and disapproval on her face. – "I ought to make you stay so I can sort out your character as well," she told him.

"Hummph." He looked back with challenge in his eyes. "As if you could." Their eyes met, and Pegasus' look softened. When he spoke again, his tone was warm and honest. "I am sorry about your son," he said. "I should never have come here to take advantage of your loss. It was a rotter's move."

"But you're not going to give up your thieving ways, are you?"

"A man has to eat." He smiled at her. "You'll hear of me next when Her Majesty's crown jewels go missing."

"So long as I don't hear of you next when you're convicted to twenty years' hard labor." The Countess took his hand, but not in a flirting way. It was the move of a friend. "Stay in touch, won't you, Max? I want to know you're safe."

"I'll write," he said, but his tone said he wouldn't. His partner would want to give him the chance to start his life fresh here, Yami suspected.

"At least you'll stay through Christmas?" the Countess asked.

"Of course," Pegasus said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	19. Stir Up Sunday

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Christmas was a holiday Yami had never celebrated much. His family being Muslim, it hadn't been part of his childhood even while his father was alive. And taking up with Pegasus hadn't changed that, the older man seeming to have walked out on English home-traditions when he'd walked out on his English home. Yami's experience with Christmas was looking at the lighted displays in the windows of big department stores like the Galeries Lafayette and Le Bon Marche, when he and his partner wintered in Paris. It was admiring the quaint Nativity figures for sale in Nice, exploring the Christmas market in front of City Hall in Vienna, and enjoying the free concerts at the Campo dei Frari in Venice. What it was not, and had never been for him, was a home-holiday, because of course he'd never had a home in which to celebrate it.

Apparently, that was all changed now. Once she'd decided to accept him as a member of the family, the Countess did it full-on. Yami was included in everything the family did, and Her Ladyship – Mother, as he was trying to remember to address her. – treated him just the same as she did her own son. He knew for a fact that there was a pile of Christmas presents with his name on it, waiting in the cupboard with the rest of the family's presents. The Countess took him along when she went to the Village school's Christmas pageant, and to the church fete. – She tried to get him to go along when Yuugi and his friends went caroling in Drumfries, but he begged off, telling her it would look suspicious that "Donald" didn't know any of the traditional carols.

And one afternoon just two days before Christmas, she sent for him. Yami and Yuugi were in the nursery. Donald's old room had a feeling of sadness to it, now that Yami knew a little more about the boy who had lived there. He'd moved his things upstairs, more comfortable sharing Yuugi's room, which was alive and full of his treasures, than in the downstairs bedroom, which felt like a funeral memorial.

They were on the bed talking, when they heard a knock. "Please, Master Yuugi, Master Donald," – It was Lizzie, the girl still very happy that her beloved Master Yuugi wasn't being sent away, and showing it by running every errand and carrying every message that was sent him. – "her Ladyship says you're wanted in the kitchen."

"The kitchen?" Yami echoed.

But Lizzie wouldn't say anything more, just, "she says hurry," with a smile on her rosy face. And Yuugi just shrugged, smiling as well.

"We'd better go," he said.

The kitchen at the Jardine house was a comfortable, modern place, all clean tiles and shining, enameled surfaces. Yami had been down here before; he knew the delicious fragrance of the place, and the way there were always cakes, or loaves of fresh bread, or vast shiny pies set out to cool, whatever the time of day. Today was no exception. The scent in the room was spicy, an appetizing smell that promised raisins and brown sugar and nuts, and, that didn't only come from the fruity-looking cakes on the worktable.

"Come here, dears." The Countess' voice came from over at the far counter, and when Yami looked, he saw a lady very unlike the usual elegant figure of Yuugi's mother. This lady had her sleeves rolled up, a big white apron covering her gown, and a smudge of flour across her nose.

Yami looked at Yuugi. "Do you know what this is about?"

Yuugi just laughed. "Yes." His violet eyes glimmering with mirth. He took the large spoon from his mother's hands, giving her a hug as he bent to stir the contents of the big bowl on the counter.

"Everyone in the family has to stir the batter for the Christmas pudding," he explained. "It's a tradition. It brings you luck for the following year. And as you stir, you make a wish."

Yami smiled back. "What was your wish?" His smile flagged a little though, as he saw a flash of sadness shadow Yuugi's face. Donald, he thought, it was something to do with Donald, the brother he'd lost to India this past year. He bit his lip, wondering what to say next.

But Yuugi's sadness was just momentary. The traditional ritual of stirring the pudding pulled him back in, and his smile was bright again, as he handed the spoon on to Yami. "Come on," he said. "You have to do it too."

"Me?"

Yuugi laughed. "Mother called both of us, didn't she?"

Gingerly, Yami dipped the spoon back into the bowl of gloppy batter. He was used to playing cards, to making elegant conversation with the elites of Europe and coaxing them into trusting him, not to stirring bowls full of what looked like chopped pincushions flavored with spices.

"You're not making a wish," Yuugi's voice came from behind him.

"I'm not speaking my wish out loud," Yami answered. "You're not supposed to say it out loud, or it won't come true." He stirred, the batter thicker and harder to move than he'd expected. He didn't have to think what his wish would be. _Every _member of the family, Yuugi had said. He was a member of this family now, out of choice, and because Yuugi had fought his family and insisted on it. It was the first time he'd had a real family, since… Since he'd been too young to remember what it even felt like. He felt warm and welcome here with the Jardines, but he didn't forget why he was here; he didn't forget the love that had made him risk prison to stay here.

Slowly, he stirred, mixing the heavy batter, turning up raisins and bits of nut with his spoon. He closed his eyes, making his wish. _I want to be with Yuugi for the rest of my life._


	20. Christmas Morning

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Mornings come late in Scotland in December. By the time there was daylight enough to see the frost coating the ground and tree branches outside, Yami and Yuugi had both been up for hours. They'd eaten a good breakfast, and spent a happy couple of hours in the downstairs drawing room, passing presents around to be opened. The Countess – Mother – was a wonder; for every present there was for Yuugi, there was another that matched it for Yami. After it was all over and the wrappings cleared away, he surveyed a pile that included books, fur-lined gloves, and a monogrammed shaving kit. – It was monogrammed with Donald's initials rather than his own, that was the only reminder that these things hadn't been chosen for him personally. The books on the other hand, were quite to his own taste, being mysteries and popular novels, rather than the travel books Donald himself would have enjoyed.

"Thank you, Mother." He leaned over, thinking to give her a hug, but the Countess turned her cheek toward him for a kiss. "I'm not Donald, but I'll try to be a good son to you."

"Life moves on." Was there a waver in her voice? Yami wasn't sure. She leaned into his kiss, then turned, and when their gazes met, her eyes were dry, her face calm. "I quite like my new son Yami, er, _Donald_."

Yuugi, exuberant, threw his arms round both their necks in a quick, three-person hug. "I quite like my new brother as well," he said. "And I like my old mother." Yami saw him throw a glance toward his father, as if hoping to include him as well. He heard the strain that came into his voice as the Earl remained where he was, deigning only to nod stiffly, wordlessly, before turning back to his conversation with Pegasus. Apparently some people still found it easier than others, to adjust to the new situation. "This is the best Christmas ever," he said, sounding – almost – like he believed it.

"It's the best Christmas ever for me." Yami reached up quickly, hugging Yuugi himself, and the Countess as well. "It's the first one when I ever had a family to share it with."

"I suppose I count for nothing then?" Pegasus interjected, his tone amused. Yami looked up at his partner, who sat behind his own small pile of gifts, and next to the Earl, who was busy showing him a book on Scots Lowland history that he'd just given him. Whatever his words said, his looks gave him away: He was a part of this scene of family coziness. "Never mind," he said. "I am quite a Scrooge, and the boy and I never did anything special for Christmas the entire time we were partners." He smiled at Yuugi. "It's your job to make up for the lack."

Yami gve Yuugi a quick hug. He looked up at his ex-partner, smiling into Pegasus' answering smile. "He'll do it," he said. "He'll glory in it."

"My Yuugi." The Countess's smile encompassed him and Yami both. "He has a loving heart."

There was one person who wasn't part of this warm family scene. He was _with_ them, but not _of_them, and Yami found himself looking up at him to gauge his reaction. He was half surprised the Earl hadn't made some critical comment yet, or exploded with anger. Unlike the Countess, he still held himself distant from Yami – and from Yuugi as well, as though he blamed his son for the new development of having Yami here.

The Earl looked back at him, his face stiff, his eyes cold-looking. Here was one man he'd never win over, Yami thought, one person in this household he'd never coax into accepting him. He told himself that it was for Yuugi's sake that he cared, and looked back toward his lover with fresh fondness in his heart. But the discomfort of thinking about the Earl, this man who was supposedly his "Father", at least in public, remained.

* * *

><p>For his part, the Earl watched the scene in the drawing room from under lowered brows, the frown on his face habitual these past few days even when he wasn't sure of its reason. His wife and Yuugi, they were cut from the same cloth, both quick with their smiles, their fond words. Margaret's affectionate nature was part of what had drawn him to her. Even now after 30 years of marriage, he still felt his heart warm when she gave him one of her sweet smiles; he still felt like he grew taller and straighter, when she gave him a word or two of praise. Side by side with her elegance, Yuugi was an awkward puppy. He jumped around, he talked too much, and he threw impulsive hugs at everyone… No, he thought, watching while his eager son pulled, first his mother, then his friend, this Yami, and then both of them, into close, fond hugs. No, the boy gave his mother affection, in response to her affection. And what did he give his father?<p>

It hadn't been like this when Donald was alive. – The Earl looked up. Max, or to use his real name, Pegasus, was saying something to him about the history book they'd been looking at. He'd given it to him, which was a gesture of welcome in itself, and to someone who didn't deserve it, but now he found he couldn't summon the interest to look at it. His eyes kept returning to the scene on the hearthrug: His younger son – His _son_now, plain and simple. – and his wife, and the other boy, the one Yuugi had been willing to defy him for. And he longed for the days when Donald had been here, when they'd been together, both of them firm and reserved, both understanding each other without words.

Down on the rug, "Yuugi has a loving heart," Margaret was saying. And the Earl had to agree. Yuugi's strength was his love, but it was a strength that seemed to pull them apart, instead of bringing them together. He gave it out to everyone, to his mother, and to all his common friends at school, and to this criminal boy that he'd taken to his heart for some reason as well. But for his father, what did he have?

"I've had enough of this Christmas foolishness." The Earl stood, Pegasus' history book sliding off his lap to the floor, unregarded. He turned toward the door, barely noticing as he stepped on a glove box of someone's, kicked aside the tin of ginger-nuts that had been Yuugi's annual gift from Father Christmas ever since he was five. He wanted to say he was leaving because Donald wasn't here, but that made no sense, did it? "You three may stay here and laugh like fools if you want," he told the trio on the hearthrug instead. "I'm going for a walk before dinner."


	21. Later That Day

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

"Father!" Yuugi knew better than to press his father to reconcile before he was ready. This Christmas morning he'd been getting comfort where he could, from Mother, from Yami, and – Sort of! – from Pegasus. He'd almost managed to forget his father was there, until Father jumped up, and stepped right on top of the book he'd just given Pegasus, and then hurried off grumbling. "It's Christmas," he called after him, "can't you…" and then, "wait!"

Yami put a hand on his arm, shaking his head. "No."

"Why not?" Yuugi looked at him. "Why does he have to live in the past?" He caught himself as the words tumbled out, as he found himself looking into the pained faces of his mother, as well as Yami. Donald was still just barely _in_the past, for any of them. His memory was still alive. But why did it have to get in the way of what was real, what was present now? Couldn't Father let go of his memories long enough to see the son he still had?

"He needs more time." Yami picked Pegasus' book up off the floor, his slender fingers caressing the binding, carefully smoothing the pages back into order. He put it back on the table, then looked at Yuugi. Yuugi looked back. He warmed his heart in the caring expression on his lover's face; he tried to be happy with what he so evidently had, and not to go yearning after Father.

"He'll come around, dear." Mother's voice was gentle. "It has to be in his own way though. We can't push him, that will only make it take longer."

Yuugi nodded, still feeling downcast. He understood, but that didn't make it any easier to wait.

"Now dears, it's time to get busy." Mother rose in a swirl of lavender-scented skirts. There's still so much to be done. You and Yami had better hurry upstairs and get dressed. Our guests are going to start arriving any minute, and I want my sons" – She caressed the word, looking lovingly from one to the other in a way that made Yuugi's heart warm. Truly, Mother was a special person. – "downstairs to greet them with me."

"Yes Mother, right away!" Yuugi's smile returned, and his eyes shone with excitement. "I can't wait."

The house was a hive of activity, with servants running this way and that, and musicians being accommodated, and Gilmour the butler, in the middle of it all, directing his underlings to make everything perfect. This year he'd outdone himself, Yuugi thought as he came downstairs in his dinner clothes. The tree was the tallest one ever, and covered with twinkling candles, as well as the little joke-gifts his mother always provided for all the guests. The dinner sent ravishing aromas all the way up to his nursery on the top floor of the house. And the musicians tuning up in the drawing room sounded as lovely as any London orchestra. He hugged Yami's arm as they went downstairs, whispering, "have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

And Yami, even though he'd spent his Christmases all over Europe, and seen things that would dwarf this little family celebration, must have caught his excitement, because he hugged him back and whispered, "never."

The first guests were already arriving, Yuugi and Yami standing next to Mother to greet them. Yuugi would have loved to hold hands with his lover, as he'd done on the stairs, but of course that wouldn't do. He comforted himself with the reminder that good manners would have required that they stand apart even if they were husband and wife, much less in this setting, where they were supposedly brothers. And every time a new person came in, Mother put out her hand with a smile, and then passed them along to her supposed "sons" for a second greeting.

Yami smiled and bowed very properly and nicely, to each new guest that came in. Yuugi, by his side, did the same of course. And then as they passed on by into the drawing room, he leaned in and whispered questions and reminders. "You recognize them, don't you?" for example, as the Devlins passed by, his cousin Duke dressed flashily as usual, and his wife Serenity in bulky, modest robes, to conceal her pregnant condition.

"Duke Devlin, am I right?" Yami whispered back. "Only didn't you tell me they'd just had a child a year ago?"

"And one a year before that. Duke is what Father calls a proper heir," Yuugi said. "He's got so many sons already, that there's sure to be someone to inherit the title after he's gone."

"I don't understand." Joey had just arrived with Téa, and was waiting to greet them, but Yami took the time to ask a question first. "Don't you become Earl after your Father dies?"

Yuugi nodded. – He threw a smile toward his friends first, then turned back to answer Yami's question. "You'll be the next Earl," he said. "You know, because everyone thinks you're Don …my brother. And then I'm next after you. Only we're not going to have any children, are we? And Duke's next after us to get the title. I'm sure Father's very happy about it," he said, hoping that the pain of knowing it was never going to be him who made his father happy wasn't too obvious. "His precious title will be secure until the Twenty-First Century."

Yami squeezed his hand. A look passed between them. – Not a long one, not one that took them away from greeting guests, but just a quick, warm look, that lifted Yuugi's heart and reminded him why he'd chosen to spend his life with this man. Soulmates, there was a word that belonged in sentimental novels, but what he and Yami had together did feel like a bond between souls. It went beyond love and affection, an union so deep that nothing could break it.

"Hey Yuug'," Joey, as always, rambunctiously and cheerful, called out so loud that he must have been heard all the way into the drawing room. He punched his friend's shoulder. "Take a look at Tristan when he comes around," he said with a wink. "That's some chicken he brought with him today."

"Your manners!" Téa looked like she wanted to punch Joey but, being in public, she contented herself with a glare. "Ribbon is a well-bred young lady," she said. "I'll thank you to speak respectfully."

"Ribbon?" Yami looked at them, but Téa was already headed into the drawing room, half-leading, half-dragging Joey with her.

Yuugi threw him a grin. "You'll see."

Tristan was coming toward them now, with Ribbon at his side. – Yuugi didn't know the girl very well, she'd left school at 14, but he'd seen her around the village. She might be, as Téa said, "a respectable young lady," but she certainly liked dressing noticeably, the ribbons she always wore in her hair (that were responsible for her nickname) being one example, and she certainly liked flirting with boys. She'd flirted with him, and that was rare. Most girls treated him like a child, just because he was a little on the short side… In truth, Yuugi had always rather liked Ribbon flirting with him, because at least she was treating him like a man. Not that he'd breathe a word of that to Yami, or to Tristan either."

"Yuugi!" Ribbon put both her little hands into one of his. "It's ever so lovely of you to give this delicious party!" A lilting laugh, a ripple as she tossed her long hair back. "I don't have to call you Mr. Jardine, do I? Or Your Lordship? We're old friends." She turned, her blue eyes catching sight of Yami, and instantly all her smiles were for him. "And is this your handsome brother I've been hearing so much about? Oh tell Ribbon, do, what shall I call you, sir?"

Behind her, Tristan trailed. Yuugi might have felt sorry for him, as he would for anyone, trying to keep the force of nature that was Ribbon all to himself, but his friend seemed perfectly happy. To coin a phrase, he looked like a little boy on Christmas morning.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" He shook Yuugi's hand warmly, then moved on to Yami's, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he had to practically pry his lady friend's hands out before he could shake it.

They both moved on into the drawing room, leaving Yami and Yuugi to look at each other in amusement. "Your father wouldn't want him for an heir, would he?" Yami said in an undertone. "With Ribbon for a wife, he'd never know for sure that his heirs were his own."

"Yami!" Yuugi gulped back a spurt of laughter as the next guest came near, his Great-Aunt Sophronia, who made herself memorable each year by remembering his birthday with a single gold sovereign, and a note telling him not to spend it all in one place. Her kisses, he remembered just a moment too late, were just as memorable in their own right. He pulled back, but too late, as her bony fingers caught hold of his shoulders, and he was enveloped in the smell of mothballs and eau de cologne.

"Donald," she said, moving on to envelop Yami as well, "what were you whispering about?" She kept her tight grip on his shoulder, dragging him with her as she entered the drawing room. "You've been abroad so long I thought you were dead," Yuugi heard her tell him. "You aren't an imposter, are you? It would be just like my godson James to be taken in."

Yuugi sighed, finding himself alone at the door. "Go on in dear," his mother told him, noticing. "I'll greet the rest of the guests myself."

"Are you sure?"

She gave him a warm smile. "It's a party. Go find your friends and have a good time."

Yuugi didn't wait for the little shooing motion that accompanied her smile. He went in, the quiet elegance of the hallway vanishing instantly, to be replaced by music, and laughter, and groups of happy people passing by, talking excitedly about the lights, the tree, the aromas of the dinner to come. He caught sight of Joey and Téa at the opposite end of the room, admiring the Christmas tree, and Joey apparently trying to read the tags on the joke-gifts that hung from it. He made his way toward them.

Before he'd gone two steps though, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Yuugi turned, surprised to see his father beside him.

"These parties," he grumbled. "Vulgar crushes, I call them. Why your mother can't be content with a simple family dinner, or a small gathering, just a few people of our own station…"

"Mother is generous." Yuugi wasn't sure what his father wanted him to say, but he couldn't stand by and hear him criticize his mother. "These parties give so much happiness to so many."

His father snorted. "Naturally you'd take her side." He swallowed, then added, "can't we ever talk without arguing any more?"

Yuugi looked at his father. For once he didn't sound stern, or critical. He wasn't blustering, or bragging about the family. Instead, he sounded uncomfortable, almost unhappy.

"Father?" Yuugi looked up into eyes that were violet like his, eyes that looked back at him with something like longing in them.

"You've always been your mother's boy," his father said. "And Don …ah, your brother was always more mine. He overshadowed you a little, didn't he? He was the grown-up one, the achiever."

Yuugi looked down. "We all miss Donald," he murmured.

"Dammit boy, that's not what I'm trying to say!" That was the Father he knew, the stern tone, the quick check to his own words. But when he looked up, the expression of longing was still on his face.

"I just wanted to tell you you've grown up yourself." Father stumbled over the words, as if they came hard. "That when you stood up to me for your …ah, for Yami: It's what a man should do, Yuugi. That's all I wanted to say."

"Oh Father, I don't know what to say." Yuugi wasn't sure what he should do either. He'd have hugged someone else, if they'd said that, but his father had never seemed to want his hugs. He stood there, first irresolute, and then very surprised, as his father took him into his arms for a quick hug. – A very quick hug, and then the Earl pulled away.

"You're a good man, Yuugi," he said. "I'll be proud to have you succeed me as Earl."

Yuugi watched, as his father hurried away. He knew he'd just been paid the biggest compliment the Earl of Kirkconnell was capable of making.


	22. Home For Good

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Yami had never seen the Jardines' dining room full to capacity before. The big, echo-y room, the dining table which seemed to stretch for miles on ordinary nights, with the family huddled at one end like stranded penguins on an ice floe, these things made sense now, with half the town here for dinner. The guest list was like a mix of the Earl's taste and Yuugi's. Every member of the Jardine family within a hundred miles was here, and what little Drumfries had, in the way of an aristocracy as well. In addition though, the room was crowded with ordinary people, with the shopkeepers and professionals, and some working men and women as well, all the people Yuugi and his mother managed to make friends with, and then remembered at Christmastime.

The room was a mass of glitter. Candles glinted off the polished silver and gleaming china of the serving dishes. The crystal chandelier, polished to a fare-the-well, threw shards of light across the table. Such few of the aristocracy who were here, kept up the leitmotif with their jewelry, and as for the commoners? Well their smiles glittered enough to keep up with anyone. They were the happy smiles of people having a good time. The aristocrats were smiling the same way. – Even Yuugi's father was smiling, and when he looked down the table at his son, his face seemed to have a new tenderness to it, Yami thought. He hoped they'd had a chance to make up; he'd never be able to tell by looking at Yuugi, who's blissful look had barely changed since he'd gotten up this Christmas morning, but he made a mental note to ask him about it later, when they were alone.

The food was a triumph. Yami knew the cook, Mrs. Buttons pretty well by now, Yuugi having made sure that their relationship went well beyond his going in and cadging treats or checking what was for dinner. She'd be taking pride in this display, he thought. Fashionable French dishes, dainty soufflés and the finest, tenderest asparagus napped in creamy hollandaise sauce, crowded cheek-by-jowl with all the elements of a traditional English Christmas dinner. The turkey was there, oozing chestnut stuffing, with a huge dish of bread sauce beside to go with it. A heaping dish of roast potatoes sat next to a gravy boat the size of an ocean liner. Cranberry sauce gleamed like rubies. And the delicious aroma of mince pies and Christmas pudding floated over the entire meal, reminding guests not to eat too much during the meal.

Aristocrats ate like they were commoners. Commoners ate like they were never going to see food again. Joey Wheeler personally disposed of three helpings of turkey and a good bushel of roast potatoes, Yami watched him do it. And the Earl unbent himself from his usual dignity enough to devour a plateful of turkey breast, and then turn and break the wishbone he'd just uncovered with the youngest guest at the table, Duke Devlin's four-year old son Jimmy.

Yami for his part, enjoyed the meal to the utmost, and the delicious wine that went with it, and, finally, the Christmas crackers, that exploded with sharp snaps, and showered the table with mottoes, and fantastic, brightly-colored paper hats. He basked in the warm friendliness that the Countess offered, and took heart at the signs he saw, that the Earl might have left his grudge against Yuugi behind. But what made him happiest, was having Yuugi next to him and remembering how he'd stood up to his parents, so that they could be together.

As the Earl stood, tapping his glass with his fork to announce his annual Christmas speech, Yami threw one look over the table at Pegasus: The so-called Colonel Crawford looked as comfortable as ever, of course, flirting with the ladies on either side of him, and throwing repartee back and forth with the gentlemen, but Yami wondered what was going on behind his mane of perfectly-coiffed hair and his elegant smile. He was feeling some twinges of sorrow at the thought of saying good-bye to his long-time partner himself, and he wondered if Pegasus was feeling the same way. Not that he'd ever know by looking at the man; Pegasus had worn his conman's face for so long that sometimes Yami wondered if he had another any more.

A touch on his knee under the table; Yami didn't need to look to know who it was. Yuugi caught his eye, understanding his thoughts, it seemed, without him having to say anything. He gave Yami's hand a squeeze, his own face mirroring Yami's melancholy for a moment. They were both saying good-bye to someone they cared about this Christmas, Yami thought, but they had each other at least, and it was time to look toward the future. Feeling comforted, he looked up again, in time to see the Earl looking their way, with a proud wag of his head, and speaking of "my sons". He turned and looked around the table: The Countess' gaze was on her husband, her face fond. Duke Devlin was watching him as well, his arm around his wife's shoulder, and his expression that of a proud family man. These were his people now, Yami thought. They were his family. Without doing any disrespect to his own father and mother, and to the Egyptian heritage he'd been raised in, he took pleasure at the thought. He was going to like being a Jardine.


	23. La Palette Cafe, Paris

Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.

Paris days were cold, in early January; the same wind that blew the clouds away, seemed to find all the places where one's garments ended, where coat-sleeves met gloves, and where there were gaps between the buttons of one's overcoat. And god forbid one should miss getting one's scarf tucked completely into one's coat-collar, because the wind was sure to find the exposed end, and pull the whole thing loose, and then what was the point of wearing it at all?

Here at La Palette though, a charcoal brazier kept the terrace warm, and Pegasus, sitting near it, was quite comfortable, as long as he angled his body right (three-quarters turned toward the heat source, and only one-quarter faced to look out and watch the world go by on the Rue de la Seine). It was four PM. He had a glass of Pernod sitting at his elbow. it was a little early, true, but that was what one did in Paris, one _drank_. In a little while, if the scene kept his interest, he might order a snack or another glass of liqueur. Or perhaps he'd get up and leave; his days were so empty, and so long, now that he didn't have Yami with him.

Pegasus stared into the distance, but he wasn't seeing the tracery of leafless trees against the horizon; he wasn't seeing the busy people passing by along the street. Yami had said good-bye to him alone, well, as alone as his ex-partner seemed to be capable of being these days. He'd said good-bye with just Yuugi present, and the two had been arm-in-arm, meshed together like they'd die if they let go of each other for a moment. It was because they couldn't touch each other when Yuugi's parents were in the room, - Or anyone else for that matter; the success of their relationship depended on their pretense that Yami was Donald, Yuugi's long-lost brother, and that there was nothing between them except for normal brotherly fondness. – Pegasus understood that, and he tried to make allowances, but still it was depressing (and faintly creepy as well) to see his partner turn away from the con, and rush into the arms of someone who couldn't even acknowledge him in public.

"If you ever need anything,"

And "if you're ever back in Scotland," – Yami and Yuugi had spoken together.

And Pegasus had pooh-poohed both of them. Oh no, no, no, Scotland? Nasty, cold place, and the drear, boring life of a family closed up on its little estate. He was off to warmer climes and more exciting places. And as for needing anything? Please! Didn't he still have the con? Wasn't he past master at pretense?

He didn't need anything either. Just since he'd been here in Paris – Just the past almost-two weeks that he'd been staying in the same suite at the Ritz that he'd shared with Yami back in November, he'd already found two very lucrative jobs. Short jobs, they'd been, and rather boring, just convincing a couple of rich fatheads with more money than sense, that he had a business opportunity they wanted to join. It was the kind of thing he and Yami used to do in their spare time.

Spare time. That was the thing. And why did he have so much more of it, now that Yami was gone? Pegasus stared out over the terrace. He watched the men and women hurrying by, all bundled up to keep the cold wind out. Why should the loss of one little street-Arab matter so much to him? Had he really thought Yami would stay with him for the rest of his life? He'd started out alone, and he'd done just fine. He would do just fine now as well. - Better even, without Yami's inconvenient attacks of romantic passion.

Pegasus looked at the empty glass beside him, and considered ordering another Pernod. But it was nasty, slimy stuff, all greenish and milky, and tasting like licorice, more like a cough mixture than any kind of proper drink. He raised his eyes, staring out over the terrace. The passers-by moved quickly, hurrying through the cold streets, stopping only to make purchases from the hot-chestnut vendor on the corner. Even the streetwalkers didn't look like much, bundled into threadbare coats to keep out the wind, with only the hems of their gaudy dresses, and an occasional flash of ankle showing as they moved. Had Paris really always been this uninteresting?

Then a flash of glitter caught his eye. He saw a boy, a skinny boy, a little taller than average for a street-child, but a boy probably no more than ten or twelve years old: He was behind a portly gentleman in a long overcoat, and, what caught Pegasus' attention was the glint of the old man's watch, as the boy took it from his pocket. He watched, amused by the boy's skill, the economy of his motions. There was just the slightest added movement, as the boy slid the watch into the pocket of his own, threadbare trench-coat, a rag, much too large for him, but with a flare to the coattails that had its own distinctive style. Then, as if sensing that he'd been seen, he turned, and Pegasus met a pair of eyes, startlingly blue under the uncombed fringe of his brown hair.

"Salle Anglais." They were cold eyes, with a look of arrogance in them that was amusing in such a small boy. "Are you going to tell him? Do you think I care?"

Pegasus laughed. No, he wasn't going to tell. He and the street-boy were in the same profession, weren't they? He thought of Yami, who'd been a ragged street-child like this once as well. And this boy had the same light, skillful hands. "On the contrary." He stood, fumbling a handful of francs to wave at the boy. "I want to talk to you."

"Stupide," the boy called back. He turned, darting between two passers-by and sped away. "Je m'en fiche, something something..." floated back as he fled, and Pegasus found himself giving chase. Life was starting to get interesting again.


End file.
